The slopes fronting the imperial outpost became still. Smoke rose in faint wisps where blasts from skills had scorched the hillside or ignited abandoned fields.
Among this smoke rose motes of amber light. Leif hissed out a long breath as he allowed his limbs to finally dissipate. Around him the few remaining sentinels cracked, and broke apart, fading away into white light mixing with gold.
Corpses littered around Leif’s feet, the hem of his cloak darkened with a mixture of dirt and blood. Throughout the fight he hadn’t been in any true danger, the numbers of undead while great had been diffused by distance and lessened by the soldiers atop the fortifications.
What few that made it past Hera’s summons were often missing limbs or gravely wounded. Leif flared his aura in an effort to burn away the last remaining excess vitality. He knew as he cultivated life-force his available pool would expand, but that expansion was comparatively slow compared to the rate he could accrue energy.
His focus briefly shifted to his notifications. He had gained a level, not too bad for a ten or so minute stretch of intense combat, though the build-up of experience over the past few days was likely as much of a reason for the gain.
Level up! Class [Brawler] is now level 7!
For defeating a large number of foes unarmed and unarmoured you have gained a level!
+1 to [Might] +1 to [Alacrity] +1 to [Spirit] +1 to [Charisma] +1 free point!
That was a very nice level up. He wasn’t totally sure as to what caused certain level ups to grant more attributes while others granted very little but he had noticed the fluctuation in growth. More was better, he wouldn’t complain.
Leif trudged up the incline towards Far-reach. He noticed a section of wall different in design and accurately identified it as a gate. He angled towards it and continued on. He reached the gate and looked up at the soldiers atop the wall.
“Well?” He asked, cocking his hooded head to the side while shuffling the heavy travelling cloak around to make sure it covered him completely.
“Uh, we’re waiting for orders. Sorry about that uh... sir.” One of the soldiers said in an apologetic tone.
Leif grunted and crossed a pair of amber arms in front of his chest.
“Good work out there.” Another soldier called down. “Very impressive, saved our asses for sure.”
Leif nodded then fished out a small metallic badge. “If I showed you this would you let me in? This seems ridiculous.”
The first soldier squinted down at the object. “What is it?”
Leif tossed the academy badge up to them, it flipped through the air before the soldier caught the trinket in a gauntleted hand. A moment later it was thrown back to him. “Apologies sir, come on in.”
A moment and some muffled shouting later, the wooden gate parted, swinging outwards with the efforts of four soldiers working as one.
He entered the camp only to see a scene of controlled chaos. Men and women, most armed and armoured, scrambled in every direction. Tents and makeshift structures clearly only recently put up were being ransacked, some being brought down entirely.
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Several eyed his mostly hidden form as the spriggan took in his surroundings. The gate groaned closed behind him as he stepped forward. Shouting came from the right and Leif turned to see a woman in more defined and intricate armour bustling past a team lifting an empty weapon rack. She was flanked by a pair of more ordinary looking soldiers.
“I said!” She barked. “That no one was permitted entry without being vetted! The Academy brats are already in quarantine and now you let an unknown into the camp?”
“But Ma’am, he arrived with the blade, did you see the fight?” One of the soldiers protested.
“I don’t care if he’s the emperor himself. We cannot risk anyone harbouring potential infections, doubly so if they were foolish enough to fight beyond the walls. The doctrine is clear-”
“I’m a healer.” Leif cut in. “Where are your wounded?”
The officer spluttered for a moment before straightening. “I-is that so?” She asked, almost hopeful. Her attitude a near instantaneous reversal from but a moment prior.
Leif deliberately made his body relax. Being surrounded by so many potentially hostile strangers wasn’t doing him any good. “Do you need my assistance? If not, I can just wait here.”
“No-no. I mean yes.” She cleared her throat. “Please, come with me. The academy contingent should be near the triage tents.”
The spriggan fell into step behind her as they made their way along the main road, the packed dirt path winding up before curving along with the natural slope of the terrain. The two men he could only assume were bodyguards of some sort side eyed him, they took in his cloaked appearance but didn’t comment. Leif returned the favour, feeling their questioning probes brush against his aura.
He had come to recognise the feeling as the comparing tests of interpersonal analysis skills. Interestingly enough, with his rank two aura and the hefty amount of [Charisma] he possessed Leif knew he could deflect their attempts to identify him.
A part of him was tempted to do so. After all, if one of the imperials could detect that he was a monster things could get ugly. But according to those Leif had talked to over the past few days, as he questioned them in an attempt to saturate his general lack of knowledge, he had come to learn most analysis skills worked by comparing attributes, levels or even aspects.
His own skill, [Combative Gumption] compared combat experience. He was fairly certain this metric measured ‘combat experience’ quite literally. As in, how much experience had they gained from fighting in regards to levelling up.
He checked the soldiers, not entirely surprised that many, if not most, were recognized by his skill as:
Combat experience: Greater!
If they possessed one or two combat oriented classes, as to be expected of soldiers, then even if they were at an overall lower level the sheer fact they had needed to fight in order to gain said levels made his skill determine them to be ‘greater.’
They rounded a bend in the well worn path, the dirt road a remnant from when the outpost had been a small town. Passing lines of orderly tents and what looked like abandoned crafting workshops the officer finally gestured.
“Over there. The healing stations are in that long tent. The quarantine area is behind it.” She said formally.
Leif nodded and stepped towards the healing tent. He could already perceive the fitful vitality of several within. The officer coughed and her bodyguards shifted uncomfortably, their armour clanking softly as they did so.
If Leif could physically roll his eyes he would have done so. He sighed and continued past the wounded and towards the quarantine area. It turned out to be a converted barn, one of the sides having been removed allowing for a tarp and wooden supports to expand the building outwards.
The academy students milled about, several with bored expressions while others seemed nervous. Several guards watched at a safe distance, none too close to the students.
“Next.” Called a gruff voice. Leif watched as Linus stepped up to a pair of older men who both wore exhausted expressions and dirt and sweat stained robes that had once been white. Around their necks hung two pendants with what looked like a jagged mountain bound in chains.
The man who had spoken raised a small crystal shard. It didn’t seem to do anything so the man handed it over to the other who placed it within a small metal box.
The officer Leif had been following cleared her throat. “New arrival.” She barked formally. “And a healer, prioritise him if you would.”
“I outrank you girl.” The crystal user grunted. “And healers should be all but immune to being turned. Unless they’re dead of course. But fine, over here boy. Let’s get this over with.”
The spriggan stepped into the opened barn, a guard stepping aside to let him enter. The man Leif assumed to be the leading officer for the quarantine area looked him up and down before the second man silently handed him a second crystal from the same metal crate.
Once again nothing seemed to happen. “Clear.” The man grunted, handing the other back the crystal. “Now if you’re really a healer, get to work. If anyone dies because of this tedious formality I’ll feed you all to the commander's snake.”