“Be quiet, Zed,” Ivan said blandly.

“But I’m serious,” Zed was saying. “She just jumped out of nowhere swinging some bigass club like it was a length of rope. Smacked me across the head and everything, when I came to I had a mana stone in my hand.”

“Alright,” Ivan said, placing a foot on the monster corpse. “And how’d you get it this time?”

Zed shrugged. “Same story.”

“A girl with a club.”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it,” Zed said, shaking his head. “She’s like life in some way, always coming at me fast.”

“And I didn’t see her,” Ivan said, shoving his foot harder against the monster. It wasn’t a question.

“What can I say, you aren’t the fastet mage alive. I think she has a speed specialization. Is that a thing? A speed specialization?”

Ivan turned his head from the corpse to look at Zed.

“It’s your story,” he said. “Why the hell are you asking me?”

“I need to get my story straight in case of the next guy.”

Ivan’s brows furrowed in confusion. “The next guy?”

“What?” Zed asked. “You think you’re the only one I tell my stories to? I have other friends and teachers, you know.”

Ivan nodded, growing accustomed to Zed’s ramblings and purposeful disinformation. Or, in simpler words, lies.

“You good now?” he asked Zed.

Zed stretched his arms out and turned his torso from side to side. He could still feel most of the pain, but he was mostly healed up. Despite the multitude of red covering him, his bleeding had since stopped and he had no open injuries.

He noted these days he healed slower than when he’d fought his first monsters. Wasn’t he growing stronger? Or does the category really make that much difference?

“I’ll live,” he told Ivan.

Ivan nodded sagely, then stepped away from the corpse, gesturing at it.

“Go for it then,” he said.

“Before I do,” Zed said. “How exactly do you know of this skill?”

“Jason told Heimdall who told me.”

“So Jason isn’t very good at keeping his mouth shut, is he?”

“Not the point. I needed to know your combat capabilities to train you properly.”

“This has nothing to do with combat capabilities, though,” Zed frowned. “It only exists to be used after a fight.”

“Alright. Then answer me this. Did you ask Jason to keep it a secret?”

“No,” Zed said.

“So why are you mad that he didn’t?”

“I’m not mad that he didn’t.”

“Your face says different,” Ivan said, gesturing at it. “That frown’s pretty heavy.”

“I’m not frowning.”

“Sure thing, kid. Now I know you’d be more than happy to stand here and keep talking, but I’ve already wasted an hours waiting for you to heal up and afternoon’s technically evening now. So how about you come work your spellform on this thing and we get back before nightfall.”

Zed nodded reluctantly and squatted next to the beast. He winced at a piercing pain that ran up his side from the action before placing a hand on the dead Hulking Puppy.

----------------------------------------

* Would you like to use [Conqueror’s touch] on [Hulking Puppy (Beta, category 2)]?

----------------------------------------

Zed agreed and felt his spellform run through him. Words and intonations grew in his mind. They were getting easier to understand. He chanted the spell in a low voice, his hand on the corpse, firm.

“I came seeking violence, and violence I met. A hard fought battle and I stand victorious. Now the vanquished must succumb to the conqueror’s touch.”

The ambient mana around him trembled and Ivan must have felt it too because he took a casual step back. Zed waited, feeling the air shake ever so slightly as the corpse under his hand vibrated faintly. Then it burst into a ring of smoke and dust. It was as colorful as expected with dissipating colors of blue, white, green, red, and brown, even purple.

The burst of colors rose upwards around him and he felt his body breathe it in.

----------------------------------------

* You have conquered [Hulking Puppy (Beta, category 2)].

* You have gained +112 Exp.

* Exp to category 2: 1402/2500.

* Due to unique trait [Mana blessed] you have gained extra rewards.

* You have gained [Monster pelt (Category 2, Beta)].

* You have received [Bone dagger].

----------------------------------------

Where the corpse had once lain was a folded up length of fur and skin, clean and properly arranged. The fur was dark, the color of the Hulking Puppy’s fur. Beside it was a dagger with a blade length somewhere between three and six inches. Its handle was a deep brown wrapped in what Zed hoped was not monster skin. Its blade glistened in the dimming sunlight, a dark milk color with a sharp point. It was double edged and Zed watched it curiously.

“Jason was right,” Ivan mused, rubbing his jaw. “It is a curious thing.”

“I like the story of the girl with a club better,” Zed said, standing back up.

“And all that smoke and dust,” Ivan said. “All that mana. I saw some of it go straight into you. What did it do?”

“Gave me a little top up so I can heal faster,” Zed lied. Ivan already knew more than he was willing to give the man.

“So, I assume the monster turned into those,” Ivan said, gesturing at the folded pelt and the dagger. “And then burned the rest of itself into mana to help with your healing or whatever. Most of it went into the air so I’m assuming that one’s gone. Did the top up do much?”

Zed shrugged. “I guess.”

“Interesting. I’d say this will be of use to the town. Do you really have to fight the monster before you can do this? Jason was saying that was something of a condition before you can cast the spellform.”

“I’m not sure. But I know I have to be the one to kill it.”

“Ever tried letting someone beat it to death’s door and letting you kill it?” Ivan asked. “It will be far better if that works.”

“It would be,” Zed agreed. “But you’re beginning to make me sound like a tool not another member of the town.”

“Everyone’s a tool for the good of the community, Zed. Some more useful than others. As someone once said, don’t ask what the community can do for you but what you can do for the community.”

“I hunt monsters for the community,” Zed said. “But I’m not a tool.”

He reached for the dagger with a frown on his face, his mind bitter from the conversation as he picked it up. If Ivan was one of those at the top and not just in charge of hunters, which he most likely was, then those ruling the town were no better than the fears people had of the VHF. They were just a different kind of government. The kind that simply didn’t have enough power, so their bad was just bad. Give them enough power and reach and they would be no better than the fears they have for the VHF.

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* You have acquired [Bone dagger].

[Bone Dagger]

A well-crafted dagger, fashioned from the bone of a Hulking Puppy. It has been honed in its blood and its handle fashioned from a strong leather from its skin. An item designed for slashing and stabbing (weapon, Beta rank).

* Effect:

* +2 Agility.

* +1 Strength.

* Effect: Low chance to inflict force damage.

----------------------------------------

“Another ranked weapon,” Ivan said, impressed.

Zed turned to him. “How can you tell?”

“Any competent mage can,” Ivan said. “Like all things with any level of control over mana, a ranked weapon gives off a mana signature, no matter how weak. It’s only hidden when someone is using it, but even then, there are still ways to tell. For instance, I can feel a faint touch of force mana from it.”

“I should give it to Festus,” Zed said. “He did say he was a force mage, after all. He might like it.”

Ivan laughed at Zed’s words. It wasn’t loud, merely a simple sound with shaking shoulders. “As nice as that might be, don’t waste your time.”

“Why not?” Zed asked.

“Because there’s nothing Festus will need a weapon to fight at his rank that that little toothpick of yours will be able to leave a mark on.”

Zed stared at the dagger. “Oh.”

He wondered what rank Festus was. It wasn’t the first time he was wondering it but he knew there was a certain level of discourtesy in asking a mage their rank, so he’d kept his curiosity to himself. Now that Ivan had spoken, Zed found himself unable to hold back his curiosity.

“Who’s stronger?” he asked Ivan. “You or Festus?”

“Festus,” Ivan said without missing a beat.

“What of Festus and Heimdall?”

“Heimdall. Most likely.”

“And what rank is Heimdall?”

Ivan gave him a flat look. “None of your business.”

Zed sighed. It had been worth a try. He already knew they were at least Rukh rank since it was the highest rank he knew, but he wondered if there were levels to a category three Rukh mage since Jason and the others spoke of them like they were stronger.

“What comes after Rukh?” Zed asked.

“Is there a reason you don’t have that specifically popular piece of information?” Ivan asked, surprised.

Zed shrugged. “It may surprise you to know that I’m kind of dense in some departments.”

“It does not.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re mean?”

They were walking back down now, and while Zed held the dagger, Ivan carried the pelt over his shoulder. As they walked, Zed wondered at the quality of the pelt. It wasn’t a difficult endeavor to guess it was a crafting material, but he wanted to know what its effects were.

They were on their descent down the hill when Ivan finally spoke.

“There are five known ranks among mages,” he said. “The lowest rank a mage can have is the Awakening rank, which doesn’t count since they are termed as unranked. The next rank is the Beta rank, that’s where you fall in. Next is the Rukh rank which has less known mages than the Beta rank. After them is the Bishop rank.”

“I’ve heard of those ones,” Zed said. “Well, just in passing though. Oliver was afraid our VHF friends might’ve been a Bishop rank mage when we didn’t know who they were.”

“Bishops are rarer out in these parts,” Ivan said. “Most times you see them in more monster infested areas, hunting and striving, since killing these things is the fastest way to grow.”

“So when I see a Bishop, I should…”

“Run,” Ivan said. “Or just lie down and hope they kill you painlessly. With their level of power, chances are you’ll die before you even see it coming so it’ll still be painless.”

“Oh.”

“After the Bishop rank, we start to venture into the level of rumors,” Ivan went on. “I only know of a handful of mages at that level but my knowledge is old so they might have increased in numbers by now. After the Bishop rank comes the Knight rank then the King rank. To help you better understand them, in basketball analogy, if you’re a toddler still suckling your mother’s teats, Kings are MVP level NBA players.”

“So stay in a different city from them,” Zed said. “Got it.”

“There’s a speculation that there might be an achievable rank beyond the rank of a King,” Ivan continued. “But I haven’t heard of any concrete data supporting that. For all most mages know, it could just be that. Speculation. Still, they’re yet to give it a name.”

“I see whoever’s doing the naming is a chess fan,” Zed said. “Not that I’m complaining. I’m guessing they went with Beta rank instead of Pawn rank because of marketing. No one wants to be called a pawn.”

“No one does,” Ivan agreed with a frown.

When they got to the foot of the hill the sun was already dwindling properly in the horizon, casting the world in a strong orange glow that filled the sky like an oil lamp.

By the time they got back to town through a path Zed didn’t recognize, it was night and the moon was a comfortable usurper in the night sky. They were greeted by two men who held automatic rifles and stern expressions. Ivan returned their greetings with an almost inaudible sound as they went by. Soon he and Zed were properly within the town, soft spots of light from windows in houses casting a soft fire light glow beyond the buildings.

Zed thought of the chance to rest. He hoped Oliver was on his couch again so he could sleep in a more comfortable bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ivan asked.

Zed paused on his departure into another lane that would lead him to the house.

“Home?” he answered, unsure.

Ivan chuckled. “No. No, you’re not. You and I are going back to training, where I’ll correct all the stupid mistakes you make in your fights, and teach you how to properly control your aura.”

“If that’s it then we don’t have to,” Zed said. “Oliver already taught me aura sensing.”

“That’s to sense the aura around you,” Ivan said. “What I’m going to be teaching you is how to keep your aura from telegraphing every move you make or announcing your existence because you need it. Oliver’s not the best at aura manipulation so I wouldn’t blame him for not teaching you. Now, turn around and start heading to the building. And if I get there before you, falling will be the least of your problems.”

Zed grumbled incoherently. He rubbed a finger along the flat side of the dagger’s blade in his hand and wondered if Ivan would let him rest if he tried to stab him. In his other hand, his tomahawk dangled harmlessly as he hurried after Ivan.

……………………………………….

Abed walked with the confidence of the powerful through the rundown streets of Hillview. His destination was clandestine, situated just beyond the town. If he was caught doing what he was about to do, the other powers of Hillview would not take it sitting down. Chances were he’d be gutted in his sleep.

But he didn’t sneak around or follow corners and secret paths. If he was caught doing that, explaining would be difficult. So he walked proudly down the dark street like a man on a mission.

Unlike the old world, the night wasn’t quiet no matter how late it was. The destitute still lingered around, seeking out their next source of help, be it for food or water. It was appalling to know that there were a few Awakened mages amongst them, those not yet Beta ranked. Their bodies hadn’t yet developed the ability to absorb the ambient mana around them so they still lived off food and water, even if requiring less than the normal human.

With too little food to keep them sufficiently sustained and no benefactor to care for them, it was only a matter of time before they wasted away into the hands of death. A visitor, new to these parts, would claim they should go out and hunt a monster then sell its core and its corpse for what little they could get, which in truth wasn’t very little. But that was the idea of the uneducated.

The best an unranked mage could dream of fighting off was a mutated animal. They would be hard pressed to stand against a monster of any rank in their best condition. Facing one now would be suicide. And if anyone claimed they should go and find a mutated animal, then it only showed a lack of information about where Hillview was located. There were no mutated animals around these parts. What mutated animals had resided here were all dead, either by the hands of the first mages to come here—Abed being one of them—or at the hands of monsters unwilling to share their territory with weaker creatures.

Abed took a turn around a building and made his way down ‘Old junk’ street, once more cursing Big Man Desolate and his naming sense.

It wasn’t long before he was past the building that marked the border of the town and was into the freedom of the night. He took a discreet peek around him, suppressing his aura into near nonexistence as he moved forward. Seeking out any followers using his aura might as well be announcing his position to the world.

Abed kept his path steady, taking turns where it was needed and meandering over broken grounds and rocky paths until he slipped into the forest where the ground rats that had once cost the town some level of unnecessary stress had made their home.

Abed was barely a mile into the forest when he met the person he was seeking.

A VHF Olympian stood beside a tree, tall and powerful. It had a slender frame that revealed it as one of the armors built for speed over strength and he gulped visibly.

The VHF weren’t bothered about him fighting back He assumed it was why they’d sent their weakest Olympian when it came to strength. Still, Abed didn’t delude himself into thinking he could take it in a fight. If half the rumors he’d heard about Olympians were true, then if the mage in the armor in front of him was a Beta mage, he’d be hard pressed in a fight. If it was a Rukh mage, then defeat was inevitable. The mage inside it might not be powerful but the armor itself was close to the pinnacle of magical technology existent in the world, currently. The basic boost it gave to the mage who wore it made it priceless in any fight.

The Olympian stood about seven feet tall, leaning casually against a tree with folded arms. It possessed no face, not even a visor or eye holes with which to see out off. All it had was a blank mask of smooth metal, with highlights that depicted the side contours of a person’s face.

“You requested a meeting,” the Olympian said when Abed was within reach.

Its voice was hollow yet electronic. It was like listening to someone speak with a voice modulator. It sounded slightly feminine yet oddly cold.

Abed felt a shiver run up his spine but refused to let it show. If his plan was to go correctly and he was to be instated as the mayor when all this was done, the VHF needed to see him as someone with a backbone. Weak enough to be defeated by them but not so weak that he could be swayed easily or defeated by any random mage.

Abed walked up to the Olympian, stopping when there was a space of six feet between them. He had been hoping to meet the leader of the group but reminded himself that they saw him as a nobody right now, so it was only fair that they sent a nobody to greet him. He would give them the bait, and once they bit into it, he knew more important people would answer when he called.

“Yes,” Abed answered the Olympian. “I requested a meeting.”

“Why?”

“Are the stories that the VHF is hunting down people with red hair true?”

The Olympian’s head gear was faceless, yet Abed had the distinct feeling the mage within had given him a quizzical look as if he had just said something stupid.

“Yes,” it said. “Why?”

“Good,” Abed smiled. “Very good. Since its true, tell your boss I have a gift for him.”

“A gift?”

“Yes. Tell your boss that I know where he can find a certain mage with red hair.”