Chapter Seven

The Road of Beginnings II

The journey from the camp was just as eventful as the first day outside the tower. Jeda spoke the truth about monsters gathering close to the road and attacks were quite frequent. Luckily, the monsters were barely above level 1 and none as high as level 10. This was a boon as even the weakest of the Otters started out of the Tower at level 10. And they leveled up relatively quickly, despite the low insight the creatures gave them. Ogre with his paws still healing, and his head spinning any time he moved it too quickly had to stay out of the fray. He stood next to Jeda, in the middle of a ring of the otters, as Glaeddra led the offensive and Jeda slung his lightning and called out orders. The monsters came in numbers seeking to overwhelm them.

The slimes had low health but were resistant to slashing and piercing attacks. Fire and bludgeoning worked very well but there were hundreds of them. Troglodytes also attacked, with ambushes that wounded more than a few otters, initially. But pig iron plate was mostly proof against their stone weapons. There were different colors to the lizard-like creatures and their scales were so tiny that they resembled shaved cracked skin. The rust-colored monsters, the ones that Ogre fought were the strongest, physically, but there were blue skinned creatures that were smaller and faster, preferring hit and run tactics. Like the reds they used Chet stone weapons. However, they also used water high arts and would often drop a dense ball of water on the ranks of Otters to make a way into the circle. Jeda was a bane to them with his lightning. He cooked them with a precision that Ogre had to admit was terrifying. The way they burst apart, showering beasts and monsters with bright red-blue, or scarlet gore, when barely grazed by the tendrils of electricity, showed that they were very susceptible to the high art. The green scaled Troglodytes were more numerous than their peers and had better weapons, but they were even smaller than the blues and used daggers of malachite to fight, spurning bows. They were more agile and nearly as fast as the blues, but their staying power was wanting before the powerful bodies of the otters. No beast in the pack died during the days, but the nights were a different matter.

Ogre chaffed at his inability to fight. He felt inadequate, lacking, especially when so many of the otters and even the foxes, who was forced to the join the pack to survive the trip to Cerulean, started leveling up like mad. One of the tipping points was when Glaeddra came to him with a smug smile on her face. It was after a battle with slimes, her plate was nearly full, with helmet, gauntlets, chestplate, backplate and faulds, dripping with transparent goo. The powerful otter had been using the flat of her greatsword to destroy the monsters and it worked well. The dog could accredit a least a hundred of the slimes to her alone. He was sure that she would be able to level up quite a bit from just that recent clash.

“My strength is beyond the threshold to wield that greatsword that you stole from me, dog. Give it back.”

Ogre bristled and glared at her smug face, the eyes hard and smile contemptuous. “That sword was fair trade with the agreement I had with our leader. Taking it back from me by force would be stealing and usurping Jeda’s right to lead.”

Glaeddra’s smile deepened. Ogre shuddered as he imagined her helping to rid his clothing of waste from his terrifying fight. She must mock me in private, imagining my weakness before her…laughing at me. Joyous at the fact that I needed her help. Ogre flexed his paws and winced. They did not hurt as much as before, but they still hurt. I should have been more careful. I would not be in this situation if I used my head more than my arm!

“I will not take it by force. Though it is on your back, and I won’t have to kill you to get it. It’s not in your inventory.” Glaeddra leaned in closer, “You can thank me later for that tidbit, I doubt you knew that, if your amnesia is legitimate. Still. You will give it to me.”

Ogre laughed in her face. “And why would I do that?”

“If you were truly a part of our pack, you would know.” Glaeddra said, loudly. “You have been protected by us, many of our fellow beasts have taken wounds in our clashes while you are unharmed. Unharmed save for the so called ‘wounds’ you sustained in that disastrous fight you had with a superior enemy. A fight I might add was entirely your fault.”

“I…” Ogre could not decide on which point in her argument to address, all of it made him so angry.

She is as much a hero to the otters as you are, Ogre. The dog thought. He tried and failed to leave her prowess in the fighting unacknowledged in his head. He could not, she was skilled, and she was strong. I could be just as strong and skilled as she, were it not for these cat-blasted paws!

Paws that you broke fighting alone against an enemy that you should not have risked yourself to fight!

“You are speechless for a change, perhaps there is a heart that beats in your chest not fully hardened by arrogance. I still recall how you threatened our entire romp with death barely a few days hence.”

“I…” Ogre started with a shout, but he noticed the eyes on him, and how calmly the female otter spoke; Jeda listened but did not take part in their discussion. “I simply explained the facts about the situation, threats were not a part of it.”

“You have honeyed words, but I am no bee,” Said Glaeddra, her muzzle growing even more smug at her quip. “You have come some distance with us…will you not, even now put the Romp first, before your own interests? You know that sword will see better use in my unbroken paws.”

Bees make the honey. You would have been better served to claim you are not a badger or a bear. Ogre thought petulantly. She has won this debate…but perhaps I can gain something from this. I already knew I would not be able to keep the S-class greatsword. She was too attached to it. And losing it made her feel less than. Honestly, I did not expect Jeda to give it to me. That must have been due to the Silvertongue skill. It is powerful. Ogre knew that he should wait just a bit longer. Still, giving back that powerful blade is…painful! Especially, to Glaeddra. Ogre activated Visionary, which allowed him to see the faces of otters and the foxes around him. The formation was still tight from the battle before, so they were all within range of the skill. He felt his vigor take a hit, but it was less than with the martial art skills. Only 50 points were taken from his vigor points.

The large otter turned her back to Ogre and addressed the gathering pack. “The nights have been especially hard. The stronger enemies have come out and scoured us deeply. Heva, did you not nearly lose an eye to a goblin dagger? And Neda, how long did it take for the wound on your paw to heal? Yet you still pull bowstring to cheek to save my life when that Troglodyte brute wrapped its talons around my neck!”

Ogre remembered that fight, Glaeddra had already impaled that blue-scaled monster before Neda put an arrow in the creature’s skull. Her paw had been superficially cut and coupled with the great regenerative powers of leveled beast, it was healed in less than an hour. She did not give them a chance to refute her words. Sensing this was the time, Ogre interrupted instead. “It is yours, Glaeddra…had I known sooner that you acquired the strength to wield it I would have begged Jeda to reconsider our deal to my detriment so that I can return it back to you.”

This raised a few brows, mostly behind the dog, but he smiled inwardly and went on. They would recognize how closely he matched the tone of her words. He was sure that they were intelligent enough and social enough to do it. “You should have just told me that you could now wield it. Before my paws were injured, I slew three hundred of the stronger troglodytes, without the power of the pack behind me, it is a fine weapon. With its baptism of blood, you will do great things. I apologize for asking for it at the tower. I just knew that you are too kind and self-suffering to allow another, stronger beast to take up your burden. I know that you cannot put it in your inventory as it will take up too much space. I also know that carrying it would limit the amount of armour that you can bear. Armour that has not only saved your life but gave you the ability to serve as protection to many beasts, including Jeda our leader, who wisely approved of the deal of handing over the sword, and I the wretched ungrateful pup that I am. Please accept my humblest apologies.”

Ogre willed the sword in his inventory and called it to his jaws. He bit the tip of the greatsword and offered it to Glaeddra. Gasps of awe came from the otters about him. Lam looked at him knowingly. He knew that the dog could wield the weapon in his jaws easier than in his paws. He was there when Ogre first dumped his cache of weapons and picked among them in the Tutorial World Tower. Glaeddra’s smirk was gone, and she eyed Ogre suspiciously, but she took the weapon quickly, one paw on the flat of the great blade and other on the hilt at the crosstrees. Ogre released before she could snatch it from him. He did not trust himself to not tug back. It was reflexive.

“And now can we continue on? Gather the remains from the slimes, if there are any, and check for monster gems.” Said Jeda his eyes on Ogre.

Ogre was sure that if he continued to have such success with Silvertongue, he would fare very well in the merchant sections of Cerulean . The dog shrugged at Jeda, but then the otter did something that Ogre was not expecting. Jeda nodded at him. Does he respect me for putting the pack above my rights as the owner of the greatsword or was it because I outsmarted Glaeddra? The dog did not have the answer. However, he knew especially as the otters got stronger and while he was still wounded, that it would not be a good idea to be on the bad side of the group. Ogre did note that only ten otters succumbed to his skill. He had expected all within hearing to do so, especially the ones who agreed with Glaeddra. Perhaps their increased levels, increased their resistance to my skill? The average otter was at least at level 15 now. Ogre also knew that the number ten was not random. He had given ten s-class weapons to otters. That must have increased my affinity with them enough that my skill was able to influence them. Ogre tucked that bit of information in his mind.

The night brought goblins. The creatures were more deadly than troglodytes, smarter and quicker than even the blue-scales. And they used metal weapons that looked as if they were scavenged from dead adventurers and wielded with deadly precision. They were cunning, their traps more than a simple ambush. Sometimes they would use holes with spikes at the bottom and crude poison on the arrows and blades. Like the troglodytes one on one they were generally weaker than even a fox. But other variants of the creatures existed. Goblin shamans meant at least one otter would die in the clash. They wielded high arts of fire, poison gas, and even lightning on rare occasions. Jeda would have to duel it out with the Goblin High art user, leader against leader. Not simply because the shaman was a powerhouse but for this reason, the monster was usually protected by hobgoblin guards. A typical goblin had green skin, a large lumpy head with enormous yellow eyes and a giant nose. They were shorter than Ogre. But the hobgoblins were twice Ogre’s height, with orange-brown skin, towering over even Glaeddra and strong enough to match her blow for blow with a thick wooden club for a weapon. When they had a greatsword or mace and shield not even the large female warrior would engage them in single combat. They often required the use of the otters with s-class weapons and intense minutes of fighting before the hoard of goblins fled. They were routed when Jeda prevailed or when enough of the lesser goblins were slain to turn the tide in the group’s favor.

After those intense night battles, no cries of victory rang out. There were no calls praising one’s prowess or toasts of the tower wine. Jeda’s voice was the loudest, and yet his voice was a soft croak from calling out his skill names throughout the night. He called for the tally of the dead and the wounded. Most of the otters had made it past the level 20 now but their numbers were down. After the two that died rescuing Ogre, four more died in skirmishes with slimes and troglodytes, and another ten with battles involving goblins. Jeda used the sobriety of the time to check levels, as it was usually a way to lift spirits. Glaeddra was level 46, Jeda Level 47, the ten s-class wielding otters went from 38 to 42, and the rest of the otters were level 19 to 32. The foxes declined to show their level save for Lam who revealed that he was Level 40. Every beast around Ogre startled when he said that he was level 1. The gazes displayed an odd look of hostility when he said, believing him a liar despite everything that went on, only the ten and Lam abstained from judgement. Ogre hated it. He was still so far away from level 2, that even if he had singlehandedly fought every battle in place of the others, it might not have been enough to allow him to level up. Ogre could clearly recall that feeling. It was the sweetest thing he had ever known, a bliss incomparable to any song or poem or artful word. He trembled to feel it again. But he raged to grow stronger and higher in level.

The clashes slowed their journey quite a bit stretching out what was said to be a three-day journey into weeks. The fighting often took a while to start even after the monsters were spotted. If they were goblins, Jeda would make sure that they would stop once they got high ground and stay put until the goblins came. The fighting for them was mostly during the night, but since slimes, troglodytes, and light-blinded goblin outcasts came during the daylight, it was difficult to make headway when traveling only a quarter of the time allotted to them. Coming outside the tower gave Ogre access to the ability Learned, giving him at its current level a general sense of all lands in this world.

Two days from the town the clashes ceased. It was during the coolest portion of the day, when dew wet the stone way, and trickled from canopy of the forest about them. They sent scouts to look at the surrounding forest past the road, they came back with news of dead monsters. Lam, who was close by Jeda, for his affiliation with Ogre, and the other foxes, for their rumored agility and stealth in the forest served the purpose. Lam told Ogre directly that two hobgoblins had been impaled on the same spear of black iron, that went into the eye of a goblin shaman out the back of its skull. The fox explained that the three creatures had been alive while it occurred, judging by the splashes of dark blood that covered the area immediately around them including the blood on their paws. The tale froze the hearts of every beast that heard it, including the dog who could not make heads or tails of it. Jeda called for them to break camp and make as much time as they could to Cerulean.

It came an hour before sunset, when the orb of the day seemed pregnant with yolk-orange light and clouds sailed just behind them to the left, to bathe the land in red and purple hues of late afternoon. The fog oozed from the forest, chalky red, glistening with a moisture akin to that which was found with morning mists. But this was as if blood was the surrogate used instead of water to make its ghostly masses. It enveloped them in a flash, too quickly for them to shy away from it, too fast for them to flee. The screams started after. The piercing cries of terror abruptly silenced, dominated over the low growl of warriors chanting a battle cry to still their hearts. Ogre tried to take common twin axes into his paws but dropped them from twitching fingers. It was not fear but the bones that still rubbed in their sheathes of meat and cartilage, nearly healed. He willed the weapons away before grasping the hilt of a greatsword in his jaws. The mists were thick but tendrils of the stuff whirled about the bodies that were flung through them.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Jeda called for the otters to form ranks, but gaps opened up where an otter once stood living not even seconds ago. Another chorus of screams sounded, and a body rolled to Ogre’s sabatons. The otter’s mouth was agape the eyes bulging from terror and there was a hole in its neck and a rent in the top portion of the pig iron chest plate. With the hilt of the greatsword in his maw, Ogre howled long and loud, calling forth the skills: Bloodlust and Battle cry. Immediately the terrible screams stopped and only the deep bass chanting of the otters were left. That too faded as the red mists receded from the group of beasts. The mists became a wall of red that even the fading light could not fully pierce, yet strangely it parted from their group for nearly ten paces. Ogre felt the dip in his vigor as he activated Visionary.

Before the dog, a monster walked from the mists to stand halfway between them and it. It looked strange for a goblin, having beady red eyes that glowed like embers, and crimson skin in an otherwise goblin-like body. Its nose was different as well, the thin slits of grinning fleshless skull as opposed to the massive, hooked peak that goblins usually had. The monster held a black iron cleaver in one hand. Ogre saw other goblins come from the mists to stand before the group like the first, just as the otters grunted when they saw them. They had breast plates and helmets of pig iron, swords, and spears. Their fat yellow eyes were cankered with a pulsing red light akin to the tiny eyes of the strange goblin. He’s controlling them. Thought Ogre.

The gremlin pointed it’s red stained cleaver at Ogre before slowly sliding it across a space just before it’s neck. The dog saw Jeda quickly glance at him, along with Lam and Glaeddra who was near the slimmer otter.

“Do not be goaded, dog,” Said Jeda, “Your paws are not healed yet, we must fight as a bevy.”

No, he does not understand! Ogre thought before he leapt forward with another battle cry ringing from his throat, followed by the skill name: Horizontal Slash! Two of the goblins leapt forward to intercept the blow, stabbing with their spears. One spear struck his cuirass and sent sparks as it scoured it, the other sunk deep in his shoulder. The sound of the greatsword hitting their armoured torsos made a thunderous clang that hurt his ears and shot sparks that made any beast or monster nearby shrink back against the sudden flash of light. Cuirasses and great blade blew apart.

Ogre lunged once more for the gremlin, which flashed glistening yellow teeth in a malevolent smile and leapt to meet him. The gremlin was so fast, he cut a ragged slash in Ogre’s pig iron breastplate, cutting in the flesh underneath to a bloody chorus of parting metal and thick cloth, painting himself in the dog’s blood.

Ogre vomited red, feeling his left shoulder go numb from where the head of the goblin spear still stuck. He snapped at the gremlin, who was quick enough to dodge a fatal blow to the head or neck but the dog managed to lock onto shoulder and chest. Ribs crunched and his fangs sunk deep. The gremlin slugged Ogre across the jaw, cracking it’s left hand before lashing out with the cleaver over the dog’s skull. The black iron bounced and suddenly Ogre was free, his jaws loosening as strong paws pulled him away from the creature. The cacophony of battle went quiet. The screams of the dying and the sounds of bodies dropping grew distant. An otter with a mace and shield knelt beside Ogre, paws pressed over the rents in his cuirass. His palms glowed.

“Godlion sees all, the Godlion hears his faithful’s cries, the faithful loves all, but will not suffer a beast to die: Heal!” Yelled the Otter, “They’re shallow gashes, the plate must have slowed the strikes down enough that they barely got through the gambeson underneath.”

Those were shallow gashes? Thought Ogre, in horror. How did they become critical hits if they did not sink so deeply? How could they do so much damage if they merely grazed me…and look at the blood they cause me to expel! Ogre’s Visionary skill was still active, he could see the otters battling the high-level goblins. For every one goblin that fell six otters fell with them. We cannot win like this! But I cannot face them and face that gremlin too! Ogre paused for a second to watch the battle with the Gremlin. Glaeddra attacked it full force from the front, while Lam cut at it from the flanks. The foxes shot arrows with uncanny accuracy keeping the powerful creature from landing deadly blows on either the Lam or the female otter. Jeda alternated between sending bolts of lightning at the gremlin to cooking the goblins in their plate. Even with the iron serving to heightened the power of the electricity it still took three bolts to take down one, four if it was unharmed by the otter’s attacks. Ogre willed a greatsword into his mouth. He closed his eyes, to keep from growing dizzy as he swung the blade.

The otter cleric was only able to bring him back to a quarter of his health bolstered as it was by bloodlust. But that worked for him. Trollblood Vigor increased his vigor greatly when his health was low. His limit for skills when his health was full was barely two, now he could do scores if he wanted. That coupled with deathknoll, allowing him to survive blows that should end him, he was ready for a rampage.

“Battle Cry! Berserker Madness! Thrust!”

Ogre became a flash of metal and fur as the skills heighted his physical ability well beyond their upper limit. The greatsword cut through the face and skull of a goblin striking inside of its helm.

Ogre roared another battle cry, but it did nothing but make noise. He did not care, he roared another skill twice over, right after coming upon on a pair of goblins who, had a small pile of dead otters at their feet, pooling in iron, blood and viscera.

“Diagonal Slash, Diagonal Slash!”

On the last goblin the greatsword hued into the breastplate of the creature, and broke. Ogre called the last greatsword that he had from his inventory and felt it fall in his teeth. He gripped it hard. Thrust was easier to do when he had paws to work with, but it was the best way to save his last great blade. He would make do. The last three goblins were spaced on different parts of the battlefield. Visionary allowed him to see them precisely even with his eyes closed. Ogre breathed in deep and urged his body forward in leaps and bounds side-to-side and forward, with every ounce of energy that he had. He saw his body move as a bird would and saw that there was no wasted effort, no superfluous motion. It was perfect. He called out thrust so quickly that it became one word and spurred by his mad dash it became something more.

Ogre slashed the blade violently in the air making the blood coating it paint the road. Then he headed to where they still fought the Gremlin. Once Jeda saw that Ogre was taking down the goblins he turned his attention fully on the gremlin. Jeda sent bolt after bolt into the creature, who seemed to shrug it off at first, but eventually it staggered and Glaeddra was able to get a full-on heavy attack in with her greatsword resulting in 3000 hit points worth of damage. The gremlin wrenched the blade free from its lower hip and threw Glaeddra back with uncanny strength. The creature bristled with arrows, but the archer foxes were out of the fight. The gremlin managed to hurl an armoured otter corpse at them while Ogre slayed its minions. The body knocked one out cold when a helmet-clad skull met one that was not and broke the other’s arm with its sheer weight. The otter that healed the dog was down and likely dead, either from facing the gremlin or one of the high-level goblins before the dog slew the monster.

Ogre attacked in the gap left by Glaeddra, just as Lam distracted the gremlin from it’s flank on the opposite side. Glaeddra’s wound on the creature barely slowed it, as it booted Lam across the battlefield and turned it’s black iron cleaver upon Ogre. The dog mumbled Hunter’s Dash, using the burst of speed to leap back. When he did, Ogre moved a lot faster than double speed, which launched him as far as Lam was kicked.

With luck, their distraction allowed Glaeddra to get back on her sabatons before the gremlin was upon her. But it was a whirlwind of flashing metal. Horrific groans bounced through the bloody mists as pig-iron was rent all over her body. It was accompanied by flashes of orange and red sparks, that made the shadows of the night dance in the crimson mists and before it, like mad things. Another blast from Jeda, this time with a ball of orange fire that exploded behind the gremlin, sent the creature flying into the flat of Glaeddra’s blade. She could not react quickly enough to the creature’s frenzied attacks, but the hunk of s-class iron was thick enough to hold out for a few moments, seeing that the otter leader reacted quickly. Jeda collapsed, where he stood, spent, eyes barely open. The gremlin bounced off the greatsword, and stumbled a few steps back, wavering, stunned. Hunter’s dash sent Ogre leaping forward past even the tall female otter, as fast as a heartbeat. Behind him the dog saw Lam groaning piteously but not rising. Horizontal Slash at the gremlin’s injured side was followed by two Diagonal Slashes, a Vertical Slash, thrust, and finally Triple Thrust. Off balanced and stunned, the gremlin barely managed to deflect each of his skills. However, the monster succeeded and caught himself on a back leg, before smiling evilly at Ogre, who promptly called out, Quick Retreat. It scowled and followed half a heartbeat later.

It’s so fast and so strong! After retreating across the open space of the battlefield ten times, avoiding otters and the fallen lest they were trampled or dispatched by the relentless monster, Ogre called Hunter’s Dash and surprised it by running straight at it. It lifted it’s cleaver to block Ogre’s attack. Ogre used the agile sidestep inherent to the skill to dodge past it. He watched in horror with Visionary as the monster whipped it’s cleaver in a terrible horizontal slash along his back. Somehow it anticipated his maneuver and moved to counter it. It was so fast and so agile that even though Ogre could see it clearly, he could not make his body move fast enough to react properly to it. Ogre crashed into the flagstone road, the backplate that was rent in two, went flying. His breastplate went to pieces as he smashed into earth and bounced, going end over end, carried by the power of the gremlin’s backhand into the thick crimson mists.

Ogre coughed blood, trembling as he stood up. Even with all that vigor that he had, with all the skills at his disposal, he needed more strength. There is only one to get it quickly, and by the Dog in the Sky let it be enough!

Ogre remembered the feel of leveling up when he thought that he was dead. It was too good, too much. Could he survive doing that, three times all at once? Would one level be enough? Would two? With his companions dying as he deliberated, he could not risk being too weak to take down that gremlin. All of it, he would take all the strength he earned, and he would get it right now.

“Take me to Level Four.”

The gremlin lifted Glaeddra high above it’s head, impaled on the blade of it’s cleaver. Her body was limp, the right foreleg hued off at the elbow, gauntlet and all, and deep arterial blood spurted from her ruined chestplate. The monster cruelly threw her high in the air to crash down on the last of the survivors. The other foxes were gone. Lam still could not rise from where the monster kicked him and hacked up blood as he glared at the creature. Jeda was unconscious in the center of the battlefield. The vast majority of the otters were dead or dying all over the killing field. The gremlin howled its victory, a strange beast-like crooning that almost sounded beautiful. For Lam it was the cry of a death lark. They would all die this night, including that ridiculously strong pup. Lam had been sure that Ogre could beat the gremlin.

Though the dog might not have known it, his strength was pretty much equal to the gremlin. The monster just had a lot more dexterity and a smaller yet more powerful weapon to wield. That allowed him to rebuff the dog’s attacks with ease. When you fought a life-or-death struggle, tick marks, just lines next to words was enough to determine if you would live or die. Lam wanted to cry. But if he wept the agony in his chest, from likely every rib being broken, would just grow enough to render him unconscious. I could level up and heal. However, Lam knew that he could not face that gremlin alone. Even if he could grow by a hundred levels. It dominated ten level 175 goblins. I’d still be no match for that thing! It is a monster for the likes of Ogre. That thought gave him a chill. He was sure no one knew his true purpose in coming to the tower. But he was sure he found the source of the disturbance that his Feline Prince was looking for. It was too bad Ewe and Ram fled. They would be slain for failing to bring in the Dreameater.

Lam looked up. The gremlin was gone. A sound of metal smashing into metal and a flash of a bubble of blood and meat burst over the spot where the creature had been. Lam looked around terrified. What could do that to a monster that easily wrecked nearly two dozen, level forty beasts? The mists swirled as if a body passed through it at tremendous speeds. The mist did not close on that spot. Lam peered deeper. His night vision was not poor, but the darkness made by the mist was impenetrable. When Ogre walked from that gap in the crimson mists clad in bloody bits of armour, Lam nearly soiled himself. He did not know if it was in joy that he had not failed, or terror that the rumors were true. A Dreameater walks among us!

Ogre shook the blood and gore of the gremlin from his body like the filth it was and barely took note of the banner that told him how much insight and soulweight he got from the gremlin. The dog felt cold on the inside, emotionless, below that numbness was an ocean of shame. The bliss was sweet, sweet enough for him to fall to his knees weep in joy at it, but the guilt and shame made him feel sick. It was enough to cut through that goodness and keep his mind from growing insensate. How many otters would still be alive if I leveled up sooner? Who else will die because of my colossal ineptitude? Ogre gazed over the battlefield at the few who were still left. Glaeddra lay in a crumpled heap, near Jeda, unmoving. If they were lucky the otter leader did not burn himself out. Even if he did, if he was alive, Ogre would be happy. Lam looked at him with a strange look of horror and adoration. The otters that survived had something of that same look. He felt like an imposter under their gazes. They looked at him as if he saved them. He did not, he saved himself. He had not been strong enough to save them all. The bevy was decimated, their leader, Jeda unconscious. There were things that only a leader could do, that could not wait. Something had to be done, now.

Someone has to take charge, why not I? The thought bloomed from a treacherous, worm-like part of his heart. A taste of power made one thirsty for more. To be submerged in nigh unending Elysium as when he leveled up was to know true thirst when that feeling of rapture faded. Why shouldn’t leadership be the surrogate until he could safely level up again? A deeper part of himself answered. Because you are unworthy of leadership…you are still too weak! He promptly ignored the words his heart spoke to him and instantly felt as if he failed a test. You must get out of your head! Dwelling inwardly is a trap, especially after so much violence, stay in the present…be present! The words gave Ogre strength. They felt right.

“We need to gather up all the living and the wounded and see if elixir would spare them.” Said Ogre as he walked over to Lam. “Are you okay?”

“My ribs are broken, and I think my hips are dislocated. Other than that, I’m sunshine and moonbeams.”

The joke fell flat, but Ogre smiled anyways. Jokes for Lam was unusual. Before the fox could protest, Ogre placed a paw on the creature’s pelvis and pulled one leg and the other. They popped back into place with an awful sound. A startled yelp came from the fox, but the pain went from crippling on his face to a look of fatigued relief.

“Thanks,” He said holding out a paw to be helped up.

“Wait, drink an elixir first, we’ll need you on your paws to help out the others.”

Lam shook his head, “They are healing already, the powers of leveling makes us more durable and increases our ability to regenerate. We need to save the elixir for those who are dying.”

Ogre watched four otters poke and prod at their companions, checking nostrils and chests to see which beasts were breathing. They went away more forlorn than the last at each check. The dog spoke to Lam, “It’s not going well, I do not think we’ll find many who we can save. I do believe Jeda is one of them. What about Glaeddra?”

Lam shook his head. Ogre already knew. There was stillness to her chest where he should have heard a heartbeat.

“What happened, Ogre, did you level up?”

“Yes…I did.” Ogre said, “Too late.”

“How strong did you get?”

“You can see for yourself.”

“That is quite impressive.” Said Lam slowly, “If you can continue to level as you are, all the way up to 999, you can easily reach the ranks of Heroes.”

Ogre looked at Lam. It was piercing look that made the fox swallow hard. “I was barely able to overcome a level 1 creature, Lam. I will not be satisfied until I can slay those who would slay me and protect those who chose to protect me. Until then, I will strive to grow as strong as I can. Even beyond that, I want to wield that axe or maul or whatever was gifted to me by the Tower. For that I need to grow stronger, well beyond the perceived limits of Heroes and Kings.”