As we began our search, I gave my monsters instructions. My Ossicarn, Bagheera, cut in front of us as a scout. I had been led to believe its senses were on par with a panther back on Earth, and it was faster than Cerbearus by far. Baloo Cerbearus remained lumbering slightly behind me as a rear guard, and my new partner, the kitten-sized bee-like monster Beelebian, was perched on my shoulder.
We found nothing until the tree cover within the dungeon began to thin. As we did, noises could be carried a bit easier and I could hear monkey-like screeches followed by a noise that I’d best describe as a furnace beginning for the night’s work in winter. As the screeches continued, the noise got louder, and I could hear the voice of Moriah shouting out a not entirely distinct command.
The afternoon equivalent daylight of the dungeon was brought to that of the blazing sun of noon, and suddenly the screeches got in a higher pitch. Ahead of me, Bagheera rushed forward and I followed as quick as my feet would take me.
Soon we found Moriah with dust and dirt on her as if she had been working a forge. In her right hand she held an almost stereotypically large hammer, and in her left a globe of fire. At each of her heels, there was a cindnutum making the cough I had come to expect of them after they had spat fire.
In front of them was a half dozen cobluchins, on the ground in various states of rolling. But despite being on fire, they were not currently defeated. As the four of us came in sight distance of the fight, Moriah shouted. “Stupid buggers are higher than level one! Even with combo attacks from me and my cindnutum, we’ve barely been able to keep one at bay. They’re too much for you, so just run and find the others!”
Rather than argue, I just used analysis on the cobluchins. The data prompt I was given didn’t change, except for a single important indicator. These cobluchin were level five. As I did a quick analysis of her duo of cindnutum, I saw they were both level three.
I considered taking her advice. Who knew if I could be of help here? I didn’t even have a real attack technique of my own. Could I get to the others and get back quick enough to help Moriah?
If the difference in power was levels maybe I could fix that.
"Baloo, Bagheera come here."
As soon as my first monster partners were by my side, I reached out, touching each of them and focusing. I repeated the same push of experience I had intuitively done when crafting my first reliquaries, and immediately saw the results. With a simple push of that energy currency, I sent fifteen points to each of the monsters who made up my starting team. They only needed five points to get to level two, so maybe level three could be achieved by the fifteen points? Maybe with that, Moriah, her monsters, and myself we could equalize win? Human tactics being better than monster tactics had to mean something!
Before I could plan, I looked to my monsters to examine what the experience had done for them as it flowed into my monsters and they digested it, I realized that there was something odd going on. I had given Bagheera the ossicarn and Baloo the cerbearus each fifteen experience points. That is not what they metabolized.
A prompt appeared as I looked over each of them.
[[Blessings of Eight activated. ]]
Instantly an octahedron rolled in front of me in my mind’s eye. It landed on an eight.
[[Experience metabolization multiplier of eight granted. Baloo the Cerbearus and Bagheera the Ossicarn have each gained one hundred and twenty experience.]]
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Instantly, their experience meter rolled forward. From five additional points to get to level two, to ten additional points further to get to level three. Onwards to twenty additional points to get to level four, and thirty additional points to level five. It stopped just after they metabolized forty points to get to level six.
It was followed by another prompt.
[[You have brought your Ossicarn to level six and gained a bond with it by being able to connect with it truly. It will now appear within your character sheet and may not be stolen from you without it attempting to return. After this battle; you will qualify to purchase or unlock the trait ‘the Riddle of Steel’.
You have brought your Cerbearus to level six and gained a bond with it by being able to connect with it truly. It will now appear within your character sheet and may not be stolen from you without it attempting to return. After this battle, you will qualify for the trait ‘Hunter’s Instinct’.]]
Neither of them got bigger just yet, but immediately Bagheera let out a warning roar at the cobluchin and staggered a few. Baloo followed suit. I couldn’t spend the time to be amazed, or consider what I had just seen.
Instead, I drew my sword again, looking at the two of them. I shouted to Moriah, “Change of plans! They’re going to be the ones running for help!”
Then I began to give Baloo the cerbearus and Bagheera the ossicarn instructions. Plebian buzzed a demand to join in and I told it to hang onto my left arm and be ready. As Moriah started lobbing fire and her cindnutum joined in, I ran into the fray with my trio of monsters.
***
As Wade and Moriah joined their monsters battling the cluster of cobluchin, their struggle was not in any way private. As sword and hammer swung, the pair of human children from the Town of Strongbridge were spectated upon. As claw and fang bit into flesh, and the trio of elements of fire, water, and wind were thrown at the cobluchin, they were judged for their choice of command, for their very actions.
Gathered in a sitting room that looked as if it had been decorated by someone who was not sure if they should go ‘gothic pirate’ or ‘peppy witch’, four figures judged their actions and sipped refreshments.
“As much as I loathe to admit it, he is proving your estimation right. He does have some combat capabilities which should be examined further. He is also thinking pretty quickly on his feet.” this came from a woman’s voice, elegant in town and with an accent that, unlike the majority of the people of Strongbridge, seemed to carry the tone of received pronunciation - even though English was not actually what was being spoken.
“There’s a reason why when the draft came forward, I chose one of the candidates who was already an adult before his reincarnation. It provides easy motivators to pull.” responded the voice of a man of a gruff middle-aged man. Where he had no tone that translated the words he said, the lumbering pace he spoke it in between drinks was close to that of a drawl. “Besides, in the case he fails, in preparing well enough that he does great in the tournament? I always have the ability to get him further in my debt. A vassal who is in debt to you is a good vassal to you.” He punctuated the words by taking a pull from a heavy glass mug.
“I sensed the appearance of the blessings of eight for a moment. Interesting. It’s not normally this early that an Outworlder reborn at his age shows that token.” came out the voice of a man whose speech was so raspy, with a deliberate and slow pace that it might have been painful for him to talk otherwise.
“Yes, but if he causes himself more harm, Charles, then that only puts him and Jose more in debt to you does it not? He wagered two years of his own service and experience against two of Eris’ contracted service owed as a part of this. You stand to gain more work from him, and to keep the time of indenture that you have over Eris for paying for her transportation to Hekatondrona.” It was an excited, voice that warred with that excitement by using the tone and speech of a well-practiced noblewoman. “You and I have much to gain from the boy’s failure, my dear husband. It’s a shame you couldn’t have sent Edbert in to sabotage him.”
The woman who had spoken first retorted, “My son would not be willing to debase himself so, even for the wishes of his beloved uncle and aunt, dear sister.”
Their party continued, as Wade and Moriah battled on. As the boy’s battle continued to be displayed for those in the sitting room, the shadow of a girl peered through a spyglass at the painting on the wall that moved lines and color as if it was the magical equivalent of a television, giving the details as if one was watching a television broadcast.
As she spied, the girl could not help but smile as he knocked unconscious or routed the last of the fae-like monkey monsters. He was here, and he was that nearby. Relief, grief, and excitement warred within her in equal measure as she snuck from the room.