In the third story of the forest, the branches were about a foot in diameter, and so walking on this layer of the rainforest was like walking on thick, crisscrossing balance beams.
With my Agility stat, it wasn’t too hard to make good time on these branches.
Above me, I could see a fourth layer to the rainforest, which was made up of branches that rarely overlapped. It wouldn’t be possible to walk from one tree to another on the fourth floor. You’d have to either jump very far distances, or fly.
I could see, not far off, the tree that was certainly the Yanir tree.
It was about half a mile away, but it was so wide and tall that it stood out like a sore thumb.
It looked like the same kind of tree as every other tree in this rainforest, only several times larger. Its bark was a dark red color.
Two large rocs ahead of me looked up from their meal—a giant bat—and spread their wings, flying towards me.
As they flew towards me, I studied them and saw that they were both level 25.
Their feathers were black. Not a smooth, glossy black, but a textured, angry black. It was clear they had been fighting—some feathers were out of place, and some were missing. Each roc had a wingspan of about 10 feet. Their talons and beaks looked sharp, but what really stood out was their glowing yellow eyes.
I modulated ten Mana, converting it to Agility, ducked their swooping attacks, and sliced through the neck of the closer roc.
+80 coins
The second roc wheeled, cawed, and dove towards me again.
I jumped to a nearby branch, thanking my increased Agility—and sliced the second roc’s neck, muttering a mental thanks to Samantha's combat shadow.
+80 coins
It took me a while to figure out a way to follow Samantha’s instructions. I ended up knotting a goblin tunic to turn it into a bag that could hold a bunch of armor and weapons. Fortunately, the swords I had collected came with sheaths, so I didn’t have to worry about the weapons cutting the fabric. I was able to tuck my Interdimensional Pouch on the inside of my orc armor.
I probably cut a curious sight, a man wearing orc armor, with an awkwardly large sack slung over my back, walking on branches 40 feet in the air. Fantasy Santa Claus.
It wasn’t long before I could make out humans ahead of me.
They had already noticed me, and were watching my approach with curious gazes.
They were standing a few hundred feet away from the Yanir tree, and they weren’t actively fighting any monsters at the moment. It seemed that the people and the monsters had come to an uneasy truce—everyone was watching each other, but nobody was attacking.
As I approached, I studied them. There were eight people waiting for me, watching me. I could pick out two leaders from the group. One was a man who looked to be about 40, wearing orc armor and holding a battle axe in his hands. The other was a woman who was probably in her twenties. She wore robes and held a staff—presumably a magician.
That would explain some of the charred trees I had passed on the way over.
“Welcome to Yanir,” the woman called to me.
She reached out a hand to shake as I approached. I took her hand somewhat awkwardly, shifting the weight of my makeshift bag as I did.
“My name’s River,” she said, wincing at my grip.
Once I was close enough, I could tell why everyone was treating her as a leader. Samantha had explained to me that in the Atropos Schema, you could instinctively tell how someone else’s stats compared to your own—unless they were hiding their aura. River exuded a sense of danger—I could tell her stats exceeded mine.
She was also extremely attractive, and her robes accentuated her curves. Her long, flowing brown hair, even though it was frazzled, was somewhat mesmerizing.
“Jarek,” I said, a little belatedly.
The man with the axe shook my hand next, and this time, it was my turn to wince. He held my hand for a few seconds longer than necessary as well. Maybe payback for when I accidentally squeezed River’s hand?
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“Lieutenant Colonel Bradson,” the man said, finally releasing my hand. “What’s in the bag?” He asked the question with a suspicious, authoritative tone. As if he expected me to be carrying a bomb, or drugs.
I took another look at the four people around Bradson. They looked like they were college-age. Buzz-cut hair, muscles. Maybe they were also army?
“Equipment,” I said, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. “I collected as much of the equipment I could from the goblins and orcs that I fought. I’m willing to sell what I’ve got if anyone’s interested.”
I took out a few weapons and pieces of armor to show the group.
“Peterson!” Bradson called out, sharply.
One of the college-age boys jumped forward, nervously.
“I appreciate your foresight, Jarek,” Bradson said. “Peterson broke his sword when fighting the orc. He’ll give you 100 coins for another sword.”
“1000 coins,” I said. “I had to give up killing a lot of monsters since I was carrying these the whole way.”
“Spare us the sob story,” Bradson said, gruffly. “We’ll give you 500 for the bow and the sword. It’s not like you’ll be able to carry them around once the fighting starts.” He gestured emphatically at the growing number of rocs around us. So far, the birds were content to give us space.
“1000 each,” I said, again.
“We’re supposed to be allies, boy,” Bradson said. “You should be glad that a friend has your back. 2,000 for the bow, sword, knife, and two breastplates.”
“Deal,” I said. It was less than what Samatha wanted. But I didn’t want to start off on bad terms with these people.
The Schema allowed people to transfer the coins by physical contact. The coins, of course, were all virtual. As we shook hands again, I received a notification from the Atropos Schema in the left side of my vision:
Bradson has given you 2,000 coins.
I quickly handed over the items under Bradson’s watchful gaze.
There were several things that stood out to me during this exchange. The first was that Bradson had access to 2,000 coins. The second was how casually he passed out weapons and equipment to his people. It seemed he knew exactly what each person needed, and he didn’t keep a single thing for himself. The last thing was that he seemed confident that I would give him the equipment after he gave me the money.
It was clear to me that Bradson and his four followers would act as one group. That left River and the other two people. None of them had said much during that exchange.
I glanced at the two people who I hadn’t met yet. One was a girl with black hair, earring gauges, and a nose ring. She wore light leather armor, a cloak, and she wielded two swords.
The other was a man who looked like an office drone. He had pale skin, and was probably between his 30s and 40s. He had a bland expression, and he kept staring off into the distance. He was wearing robes, but even the robes seemed wrinkled on him.
“Anybody else want anything? 500 coins, unless you’re buying in bulk,” I said. As I offered, I glanced around. The number of rocs around us was increasing, but none of them were making any moves to attack us. It made me wonder, how these people had managed to scare off these birds.
“I’ll take the crossbow,” the girl with black hair said.
She offered her hand, and I shook it.
Kris has given you 500 coins.
I passed her the crossbow, and she quickly equipped it.
“I’d like a wand,” the man said. His voice was so soft I could barely hear it.
He offered a limp hand, and I tried not to squeeze it too hard, fearing I might break it.
Darrel has given you 500 coins.
I passed him the wand, and then glanced at River.
“I’d like your knife,” River said, glancing at me. “1,000 coins.”
“I’m sorry,” I said to River. “I’ve grown attached to it.”
River frowned. “What class are you?”
“I’m a Berserker,” I said, confidently. It was the lie that Samantha and I had prepared, since Samantha loved to keep her secrets.
“Then there is no need to keep a knife that gives you a +1 Mana Pool and +1 Mana Regeneration,” River shot back.
I shrugged at that. “It feels special,” I said. “It’s not for sale.”
River didn’t look happy about that, but then she shrugged. “I’ll take the other knife then.”
River has given you 500 coins.
Around us, the rocs were growing more and more numerous. It reminded me of the Alfred Hitchcock movie—Birds. An ominous gathering of black birds, so far, content to grow in numbers.
“Crazy shit,” I murmured, hoping to break the tense silence. I couldn’t help but wonder if everyone had been this quiet before I came, or if I had somehow changed the mood. Did they not trust me because I took their money? Should I have just given them the equipment without charging anything?
“Shit’s fucked up,” Kris agreed, staring at the nearest roc and plucking at the string of her new crossbow nervously.
“We were talking about what levels we’d be challenging when the tree blooms,” River said. “Darrel, Kris and I will climb to fight the griffins above us. Darrel’s a healer, Kris is close combat, and I’m primarily ranged spells. Bradson and his crew will be on this level. Where do you see yourself?”
“What level are the griffins?” I asked, not sure if it was a dumb question.
“Level 35,” River said, nonchalantly. “I’d guess the ground floor is under 15, 2nd story is 15, our level is 25, and so on. Of course, you could always go down to the ground floor. Probably safer there.”
River said it nicely, but it still felt like a taunt.
What? Why?
It made sense, I guess. Once my leveling speed slowed down from the level 25 monsters, I could switch to level 35 monsters.
“I’ll fight with Bradson for an hour, and then I’ll climb up a level,” I repeated.
“If you’re—,” River started, but then she cut herself off.
Behind the rustling sound of birds’ wings, I could faintly hear the sound of someone yelling—a very human yell.
“Move out,” Bradson called, rushing off into the direction of the yelling.
Bradson’s crew followed in his wake, leaving River, Darrel, Kris, and myself to hold the fort. The rocs inched towards us.
As the yelling grew closer, I could hear other sounds. Pained caws from the rocs. Furious, frantic, beating wings.
Since the sun had fully set, the only light came from the green, luminescent moss around us. This allowed the rocs surrounding us to blend into the darkness. They were still visible, but it was hard to tell now exactly how many there were. The nearest rocs still glared at us with yellow eyes.
Kris scoffed as Bradson’s crew disappeared into the darkness. “And then there were four,” she said, sarcastically, followed by a ghostly “oooo-OOOOooohhhh!”