“In there?” Deckard tossed his head towards the cloud of orange mist. “Was it about the skill?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. There was no point in keeping it to myself, not when I had already told him about my revelation, my epiphany, or whatever you want to call the realization of how wrong I had been about [Tail of Poison Empress]. Plus, only a complete moron would think I was talking about a breathing technique.
“Good for you, Grey,” Sergeant Pinescar said, a flask of antidote in his hand. “Are you sure you don’t need it?”
“Well, sir, it’s been a while since the poison has been able to kill me, and that was in my sleep. I’m awake now. I can boost my regeneration with mana.” The theory I haven’t tested, but he didn’t need to know that. In my mind, it was feasible. After all, when it came to the wound, it was enough to gather mana in the affected area, and it healed faster. Treating a damaged neural network shouldn’t be different.
Right?
The more I thought about it, the more stupid it sounded. Even my tired brain realized that apart from it and the spinal cord, I was unable to pinpoint the exact location of the damaged nerves, not without skill like [Inner Perception], and so the only option left to me was the brutal approach. That is, saturating a large area with a large amount of mana.
The description of [Never-Dying] talked about boosting my regeneration with mana, but was there some trick to it I wasn’t aware of? I mean, what if...I had been approaching my regeneration the wrong way all along, too? There...
“Harper! Harper!” Freyde shouted, breaking my train of thought. The Baker was sprawled on the ground in spasms, foam coming out of her mouth.
“That idiot,” the master guard cursed and was with her in a flash, pouring the contents of the flask he’d been offering me earlier into her mouth. Then he pulled out a healing potion and did the same with it. Whether it was a subconscious reaction to the liquid in her mouth or if she was still aware of what was going on with and around her was hard to say, but she gulped the potions down.
Only when she stopped twitching, and her chest started to rise in steady, if heavy breaths, did I allow myself to take one too.
“Is she going to be alright?” That was what I wanted to ask, but it was Freyde who posed the question I didn’t find the guts to raise.
“Give her time, and she’ll be back on her feet,” Sergeant Pinescar growled. The man was pissed. Not at the half-gnome, the taurus, or me. Pissed at Harper. “What about you two?”
“I feel better after taking the antidote, sir,” Meneur said, and Freyde nodded. “Me, too, sir.”
“Grey?”
“Sir?”
He threw me an angry look. “Damn it! Are you good?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you sure? And think carefully about what you tell me because if you end up like her, I’ll make sure you wish that poison would kill you permanently.”
I gulped, looked at Harper, and tried to catch any signs that something was off with me. And while the [Inner Perception] would really come in handy right now, other than my mind being a little sluggish and my eyes closing with fatigue, I didn’t find anything to suggest I should end up foaming at the mouth in the grass. The question was whether to take the antidote, just in case, to give me and Sergeant Pinescar peace of mind.
“You know, if you’re sure it’s not a real issue for you, Little Beast, then show him you can stand by your decision. Makes more of an impression on him than taking the antidote needlessly. Trust me, I’ve met my fair share of idiots like that girl during my time in the army and quite a few like you,” Deckard spoke up in my mind. “The kind who would rather bow their heads and do as they were told than risk the ire of a superior. Show him you got guts, confidence, that you won’t go back on your word.”
There wasn’t much to think about. He was right.
“No, sir. I don’t need the antidote,” I said with more confidence in my voice than I expected. But then again, I was pretty sure I wasn’t gonna end up like Harper. The master guard eyed me for a moment, perhaps waiting to see if I backed down, then nodded, smiling slightly, and turned back to the Baker still lying on the ground.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, Little Beast. You need to learn to trust yourself more...and your instincts.”
To trust my instincts, huh? That’s gonna take a little more work. For now, it was enough that I wasn’t afraid of them any longer.
***
It took a few minutes for Harper to regain some of her bearings. The second she did, Sergeant Pinescar gave us an earful about the importance of knowing your limits and not playing the hero.
“How am I supposed to know my limits if I don’t test them, sir?” still with some difficulty, the Baker objected and to her credit, there was something to her question. Baking may have been dangerous work, as she said, but unless she worked in the kind of bakery where assassins ordered sweets for their gigs, she hardly came into contact with poisons.
I expected Pinescar to punch her. He just shot her a stern stare. “Sure, test them. Push your limits. But don’t be fucking stupid about it! Anyway, it was still a good lesson for you all. Better it happened now than later.” He paused, shifted his weight, and looked at me. “There was one more thing to show them, wasn’t there, Grey?”
Yeah, my presence. They needed to know, sense it, and experience the pressure.
“Sir,” Meneur raised his voice. His hesitation to actually speak was more than obvious. “Would it be dumb of me to try and see if the poison cloud is flammable? When I used my magic on the Harper’s flour bombs, I...”
“Yeah, I heard. Good thinking. Grey?”
All I could do was shrug. “I’ve considered it, but never tried it.”
“Then, go ahead, Ironhoof.”
Our squad mage nodded, stepped aside, and focused. At that moment, a shout ripped from my throat, “Wait!”
“Idleaf,” I explained, looking around, but she was nowhere to be found. Either she got bored and went looking for more adventure with Esudein and Zeewet, or she was still in that slowly thinning and expanding cloud of orange gas.
“Idleaf, are you there?” No answer, just a giggle, a giggle, and a glob of gas the size of a tennis ball that came hurtling back at me from the cloud. It was a reflex, a decision made in seconds by my instincts when I put my hands up to protect my face and create a barrier in front of me. The ball of poison gas smashed into it, and the poison burst out in a rather neat smoke circle.
What the hell was that?!
The spirit of the young World Tree didn’t give me a chance to figure it out. More balls of poison gas started coming at me from the depths of the orange cloud. Luckily, for how menacing they looked, they weren’t hard to block. The impacts on the barrier were unnoticeable, and so the only threat was the poison itself.
“Idleaf, please stop it.” With the plea, I achieved the exact opposite. She giggled even louder, and her attack intensified: targets no longer just me but others as well. While Freyde and Meneur helped Harper to her feet and get behind me, Deckard and Sergeant Pinescar just watched with interest, completely ignoring the incoming poison balls.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Feeling responsible for what was happening, I tried to stop even those coming at them, and so I ended up in a strange dance, a one-sided snowball fight, a game of catch and I had to stop them all.
How did Idleaf even create them?
I had a similar idea, though with my current level unfeasible, if at all. The thought was to trap the poison gas in a sphere formed by my barrier, which I would then throw at my enemy. Again, not feasible at present. My handling of the barrier was too shallow and limited by the level of [Master’s Shield]. The issue for later, though.
My current concern was the rampaging Idleaf. As her attack continued, the surrounding air began to smell alarmingly of apples. Poisoned further, I pushed my defense forward to prevent others from suffering the same fate.
“Stop! Idleaf, please.”
More giggles.
“You’re hurting others.”
Not true. I had managed to protect them so far.
“Did I really?” Idleaf whimpered beside me, nearly giving me a heart attack. “I thought everyone liked your gas.”
Okay, first of all, that sounded pretty awkward. Second: “What made you think that?”
For the first time since I had known her, she gave me a shrug and smiled innocently. Cute, but what the hell was I supposed to make of that? And did I really want to know the answer? No.
“As long as you don’t do it again. Promise me that.”
“I promise, Korra’leigh,” she gave me her word. Then she flashed a playful smile. “It was fun, though.”
It kind of was. “Tell me, how did you make those balls?” Curiosity got the better of me.
“I trapped the gas in a layer of mana. It’s easy. You want me to show you?” Her idea of what was easy quite differed from mine. I found moving mana out of my body to be the pinnacle of my mana manipulation and what she had done utterly beyond my current capabilities.
There was only one thing to do but swallow the bitter truth. “Perhaps later, Idleaf.”
Turning back to the others, I expected to see faces full of anger. After all, I was a Guardian of Idleaf. Even though my main job description was to protect her, duh...here among humans, it was my self-appointed responsibility to keep an eye on her, or more precisely, on her spirit, not let her get into trouble or cause any. This mess was my fault.
“That...was a great way to showcase your role on the team,” Sergeant Pinescar said, sizing Idleaf and me up. While he was likely assessing what to expect from us next, a sense of relief washed over me. He didn’t hold it against me, at least not openly.
“I had my doubts about you being a tank, yet...I can see it working. You are rough around the edges, but got the most important thing handled well.”
“Which one, sir?”
“Protective instinct, you’re willing to put yourself in harm’s way to protect those in your party, not just your friends or squad. It wasn’t necessary in my case. I appreciate the effort, though.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. The reason I stopped the balls Idleaf threw at him and Deckard wasn’t because I felt protective of them, but because I felt liable for the young World Tree.
“Are there tanks who don’t want to protect others, sir?” Freyde asked, finding the notion strange, and he wasn’t the only one. Harper, Meneur, and I exchanged glances, thinking the same thing. Why the hell would anyone be a tank, then?
“Sure there are. Just like there are fishermen who are sick of fishing or don’t even like fish. It’s just a job for them, a chore. My advice: If possible, avoid teaming up with one like that. Those guys and gals won’t go to any great lengths for you when the shit hits the fan. So, be glad you have someone like Grey on your squad. Now, Ironhoof. Didn’t you want to try something?”
The taurus didn’t answer. He just nodded, stepped aside, and summoned his magic. First time I had ever seen it this close up and not been the target. And it was fascinating. The ember magic. It really looked like embers, thousands of hot embers writhing in streams like snakes around his arms and body. Then, all at once, they surged forward.
For a beat, a palpable tension settled between us. Everyone’s focus was on the orange cloud in front of us, in their eyes anxiety, anticipation, and curiosity to see what would happen, if my poison would meet the same fate as the flour Harper had doused me with on the barracks training grounds.
In seconds, a stream of embers plunged into the cloud of poison, illuminating it from within. That was all it did, though. The poison gas didn’t ignite; no blast followed. Meneur waved his hands, and the stream of embers in the middle of the cloud followed his movements, turning and twisting through the air before he let the embers go out and disintegrate.
“It seems to be non-combustible,” he noted, no disappointment in his voice, unlike Harper, who was frowning and muttering something under her breath. And to be honest, even I saw it as a bit of a letdown.
“Good to know,” Sergeant Pinescar boomed, not letting us wallow in that disappointment for long. The master guard looked at each of us, me last. “But don’t forget that as this is a poison created by skill, it can change with levels and tiers. Today it may be harmless to the touch, non-flammable, but tomorrow it will blister your face and burn your ass when you underestimate the changes. That applies to all skills. Don’t just rely on descriptions of what the system gives you; there is always more to skills. Clear?”
“”Yes, Sir.""
“Now, let’s move on,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Your presence, Grey.”
“Damn, you can use your presence?” whistled Harper, her enthusiasm returning as her strength came back.
“My gr...”
“Don’t fucking say another word,” she barked at Freyde when he was most definitely going to mention his grandmother again.
“I assumed that presence was a display of power and as such was the prerogative of people with class levels greater than two hundred, sir,” Meneur said while ignoring the two with a straight face, looking as if he was used to their bickering.
“Yes and no,” said Sergeant Pinescar and shifted his weight. “Presence is not tied to the system, so when they talk about level 200 as a threshold, it’s just a rough guideline. No skills can affect it, let alone hand it to you. There are those who master it sooner and those who master it later. And sometimes you run into someone like her.”
Without saying more, he gave me the floor. “As you know, I am a half beast. Actually, the blood of seven and damn strong ones runs through my body. So, basically, I’m using their presence.”
“You’re using what you’ve been given. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Deckard pointed out, as he caught a hint of shame in my voice. He was right, and I knew that. I just wish I had achieved it through my own strength and not because I was a freak.
“So...” Meneur gathered his thoughts. “You can use the presence of seven different beasts? Seven different kinds?”
“No, no, just one presence. A mix of all seven, you might say. And it’s pretty strong.”
My ears twitched as Sergeant Pinescar laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. Yeah, you may not remember me, Grey, but I was there when you chose your class.”
“Sorry, sir.” That was the first time I used the physical manifestation of presence, unintentionally.
“Don’t be. It was...let’s just say, an interesting experience. Speaking of...what about you three? What kind of experience do you have? Have you felt the presence of someone or something powerful firsthand?”
“Captain Rayden, sir,” Harper said without thinking about it too hard, and the guys nodded. “Same with me, sir.” “Me too, sir.”
“I should have thought of that. She tends to use it quite often. Can you give me a hand here, Deckard? Would you show the rookies here the presence of someone with a level three hundred before we unleash the beast on them?”
When I growled, annoyed at how he was talking about me, he just grinned back, even pleased that I proved his point.
“I don’t see why not, Sergeant,” Deckard replied, hands in his pockets and an amused look on his face. “Are you ready, boys and girls?”
“”Yes, sir," all three of them bellowed, tense with anticipation.
Without further ado or batting an eye, Deckard unleashed his presence in full force, not just hitting them, but me as well. The pressure struck my senses, sapping my strength, forcing me to yield. Were I a mere human, low-leveled as I was, I would have submitted and fallen to my knees, as Harper, Freyde, and Meneur did. But I was more, and the beast part of me saw it as a challenge. With beads of sweat forming on my forehead, I roared back, not giving up.
Deckard grinned, almost as if he expected that reaction, which pissed me off even more. I could feel it bubbling up inside me, tickling my skin, only my will holding it back from bursting and pushing back. I wasn’t going to play to his beat.
“Come on, Little Beast,” he whispered, voice full of tease and the intent clear. I held back.
“Don’t fight it.”
Whether he was trying to prove something to me, I had no clue. The longer he pressed my senses, the more my will waned, though. One last breath, one last moment of defiance, and I let out a mighty roar along with my presence.
A wave swept through the grass, and the pressure on my senses eased. I won, the puny man lost, or so my instincts told me. I knew better. Deckard got what he wanted. And since he did, there was no reason for him to continue in that display of strength and dominance when my presence eased.
“Bastard,” I growled, breathing hard.
“As impressive as I remember,” Sergeant Pinescar said, not quite clear if he meant Deckard or me. It didn’t matter, though. Like me, he looked at my three squadmates now sitting on their asses in the grass.
“Damn, Korra. That was...I think I pi...”
“Just say it, pointy ears, because I pissed mine,” Harper said bluntly, beads of sweat glistening on her skin and still trembling a little.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, Meneur started laughing, just like that, from the bottom of his heart. “Now I know how our warriors felt facing the beasts down there.” For some reason, that made both Harper and Freyde laugh, too. The taurus I understood. He tasted something he thought he’d never experience. Those two, I wasn’t actually sure what they were laughing about.
But it wouldn’t be Idleaf if she didn’t find it fun. She lay down in the grass and burst into merry laughter with them.