“Hum?” I hummed, barely acknowledging whatever the [Captain] had asked.
Status: {
Name: Darian
Class: {
Name: Error #46
Level: 14
Energy: 260/480
Attributes: {
Strength: 3
Agility: 9
Vitality: 5
Intelligence: 13
Wisdom: 11
Stamina: 4
}
Skills: { ... }
}
General: { ... }
}
Leveling up did not restore my missing energy, so sadly that wouldn’t be a silver bullet to save me of difficult situations. Nonetheless, the growth was real and much appreciated.
In the 5 minutes that the fight, my fight, had taken, I had blown a third of my reserves. A third of it. In only 5 minutes. I badly needed more energy if I wanted to fight this kind of enemies.
It was still better than the disarray I was seeing. While the expedition was managing to kill all wolves, rather fast if I may add, it was ugly to see. The number of wasted spells was astonishing.
The amount of times I saw melees taking unnecessary hits, perplexing. They had seen me take all those hits! How could they just do the very same thing?
That no mage hit a melee fighter on their back was nothing short of a miracle. I supposed it had more to do with the system aiding in the process than to any sort of training.
I didn’t want to build a biased mental image of the human abilities in this world. Instead, I attributed it more to lack of training. Perhaps I was in a smaller city, and this expedition was an impromptu assembly of local citizens.
Actually, that must have been it. I thought back to the classes I saw on the city gates, their equipment and their friendliness. They were friends from the city who had decided to fight back their own land.
That made sense. I chose to believe that was the story here. That there were many other powerful and trained individuals who would be ashamed of this group.
“How many expeditions have you been in?” The [Captain]—which I kept thinking back as his class, because I had forgotten his name—asked.
Maybe he is one of those powerful individuals? I had not seen him fight, or use any ability. Is he saving them for some other moment?
“Me? This is my first.”
“Was that really light?”
I could lie, but what was the point? I had already told him at the meeting point, but I suppose he hadn't believed me.
I nodded, aware of what would come next.
“Are you… a Saint?”
Bingo! Any leader-like attitude in him was quickly evaporating. Each question took a bit more of it away.
“I’ve been told that I am not yet one. Maybe some day? But not now, no.”
He shook his head. I'm sure he was thinking that he almost sent a Saint to his death by assigning him to the front lines.
“So it really is your first time… did you know at least of the corrupted?”
“I certainly did not!”
Smirking might not have been the best choice, but what could I do? I just was too honest.
If you ignored the fact I was summoned. That I didn't have a master and that he was, obviously, not dead. And that I had nothing to do with Saints.
Still, it seemed like my honesty triggered him to put his teacher hat. Eagerly put it. He didn't shut up for a second.
Summoning sites were delicate. They interacted with the system and had powers beyond what was normally possible.
It was a combination of alien technology and the system itself that made it possible.
And, while powerful, it was equally dangerous.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
If let loose, unmaintained, or in a broken state—not like I had anything to do with that—it could affect nearby entities.
Entities meaning alive beings and lifeless objects equally. Anything touched by the system, so virtually everything, was subject to being corrupted.
Interestingly, that included us if we stayed for too long in the dungeon. Dungeon meaning, contamination zone.
No one could exactly pinpoint what the no return limit was. It depended on the person, the class, the level, and even the equipment. For someone at my level, 14, the consensus was to spend less than three days inside.
Altered life were seemingly normal animals, plants, humans, or any other form that had gained skills beyond their capabilities. Powerful spells that would normally not exist or even work. Broken skills that got corrupted while being assigned.
I am corrupted, I concluded when he was explaining. Perhaps not in the same way, but I was.
As for objects, corruption meant anything from altering their appearance to granting them strange properties. Any item found in a dungeon was to be submitted to the Order, or the local Church, to confirm it was safe.
Officially, he said right before he winked twice at me.
And the monsters we had just fought—that’s what they called corrupted animals—were no exception.
Corrupted wolf meant, plainly, a poor wolf that failed at mutating into anything useful. On the contrary, an Ignis wolf had managed to undergo significant and usually impossible changes.
A fire breathing decomposing big dog that could self-destroy was, apparently, not part of the local fauna.
“Do you still wa-”
“What are you doing!? Come!” A young man interrupted us as he shouted while sprinting all the way towards us.
He stopped, barely managing not to fall, and pointed a glowing finger at me.
“What are you doing?” I asked him, nonplussed by the bright finger.
“Healing you! I saw you took some big hits!”
“Ah.”
I could not think of anything else. It was not working. My energy tickled it at the same slow pace, hindered by the overall lack of light in this dungeon.
I was not sure if it was alright to tell him that it didn't work. So I just let him do his thing for a good thirty seconds.
“I'm okay now, thank you.” He looked at me with a funny face, perhaps sensing that I was not fully recovered. “There are people in a worse shape,” I pointed towards the winding down battle.
We watched as the [Healer]‘s face changed to one of utter horror and immediately ran into the far end of the battle.
“So, I was asking,” the [Captain] didn't let the opportunity escape, “if you still wanted to be on the fast response team.”
“Are you kidding!? I love it!”
“I-Whatever, you know what you are doing I suppose.”
He turned a few times, casting side looks on my way, as he made his way to the middle of the crowd. He looked one last time before visibly recomposing. His back straightened and his authority came back.
“Good job everyone!”
He clapped his hands to the unsure expressions of everyone there.
“Now it’s not the time to relax! We still have to make our way to the source of the problem. Let’s get moving!”
Three days to clean everything up, and we had only spend a few hours. How much longer could it take?
We moved as more information started pouring in. We expected more of the same wolves, although in smaller packs.
The reason my [Rogue] had been so agitated was because 15 of those monsters could have wrecked havoc to the 30 something people that we were.
I couldn't see how.
We moved in the same organized squads, and I managed to kill four more of the beasts.
They came alone, perhaps separated from the bigger group that we had already encountered. And, alone, they posed no challenge whatsoever.
While I found Philip a nice person, I didn't have much respect for his newfound admiration towards me. He was boasting over the fact that he, apparently, was commanding me.
It was already falling night when the building finally came into sight—of the scout, that is. I could not yet perceive it that way.
What I did notice, as it was hard to miss, was the dead and eerie silence surrounding us.
It was one of those too peaceful to be good moments.
It was hard to believe that, all of a sudden, none of the howls that we were still hearing had gone quiet.
No, that couldn't be. They were still there, somewhere, just far from the building. And for a monster to stay again from something… there had to be a bigger monster around.
“We'll camp here today!” The [Captain] announced. “Rest and tomorrow we shall start the incursion.”
Of course, this people needed sleep still. I was well rested, my energy topped, and eager to kill things.
“I volunteer to stand watch.”
I wondered if there would have been as much enthusiasm if they hadn't seen me fight earlier.
It was unanimous, I would watch for shadows in the night.