Chapter 33 — A Nostalgic Moment of Proving
Maybe he was reading too much into Laiya’s reaction to his agreeing to help her get the [Reaver] Profession? Hells, it was possible he was completely imagining things, or that the girl was simply grateful or had a strong sense of honor. Even if she was turning to him for… affection? Validation? Was that a bad thing? Surely, it was an improvement over nihilistic apathy…
“By the way, good job staying alert, Laiya. Keep it up and you could earn an awareness Skill soon,” Toren praised.
Laiya’s helmet nodded, business-like as usual, and the girl returned to guarding the far flank. Korta’s hounds playfully yipped and trotted, welcoming her back.
Everything else aside, the [Haberdasher] girl had done well to notice he was acting unusual and take initiative to prevent a dangerous situation.
Not having any social Skills to clue him in was a fact of life for Toren that got him in trouble more than once. In this case, he clearly was over-reading what he thought he saw. There was no way a girl as beautiful as Laiya would be interested in him that way.
He’d have to invest attribute upgrade points just to get his appearance to average, after all, Toren chuckled to himself. Respect or admiration wouldn’t be that strange though.
Toren had always enjoyed that thrill of pride from the younger orphans looking up to him, Yana, Avril, and Owen who had become [Hunter] apprentices and braved the wilds to bring back meat. Naturally, the [Holy Sisters] didn’t quite approve, complaining about the four of them encouraging young impressionable minds toward dangerous Professions with short life-expectancies.
Feeling that sense of responsibility again might be nice…
One of the hounds on Toren’s side nuzzled up against his thigh and barked for attention. He gave the good boy a few pats and glanced Laiya’s way through his helmet’s eye-slit. The girl was diligently focused on scanning the underbrush and canopy for threats as he had suggested she do.
Laiya’s new faith was likely at least part of the reason for the quietly kindled motivation. Though the particular faith was worrying, having a reliable fighter to help defend the property during swarms or raids and to defend it when he was out hunting would be critical to their chances of surviving.
Toren rolled his shoulders to ease the muscles supporting the weight of his armor and pack and returned to scanning twisted mangrove trees and underbrush.
The Hatterwicks weren’t the only ones to benefit from the day spent training. Having recovered his mana with a good night’s sleep, only a few hours had been needed for Toren’s [Burning Blood] Ability to finish healing his remaining injuries. The time spent actively directing the healing to specific locations within his body was steadily progressing his proficiency with the Ability, and from past experience, he was certain the threshold to the current rank’s ‘mid’ proficiency was close.
Progressing through the proficiency thresholds of an Ability was more than a process of discovery. It was a process of refinement and evolution, guiding the path the Ability would take as it grew in strength. The most usual approaches were through specializing or broadening the application of the ability. Specializing often came with increased power. Broadening increased utility. They weren’t necessarily mutually exclusive approaches.
An example he had read about while at the orphanage readily came to mind: learning to add a flame aspect to the well-known [Sword Aura] Ability. Adding fire specialized the element while increasing the effects produced. Further specializing with the fire aspect could lead to the Ability evolving to [Flaming Sword Aura] whereas learning to use additional elements could broaden the [Sword Aura] into [Elemental Sword Aura].
Theory aside, Toren was pleased with the direction of [Burning Blood]’s first refinement. Thus far, being able to target the Abliity’s effect increased both the efficiency and speed of healing—a solid upgrade with no downsides. The alternate option he felt might be achievable was an improvement to bone restoration, but that felt like a better target for his second refinement. Not that he wanted to break any more bones.
On the other hand, skilling-up [Bone Strengthening] would go faster if he did break more bones…
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Toward late afternoon, the behavior of the stray zoot groups began to change. No longer fleeing the approach of the hounds, the zoots were taking to the trees and waiting.
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The growing instances of saber birds flapping higher and to other trees and the increasing tension in the hounds clued the two [Hunter] boys in about the change in situation before Toren needed to say anything.
“We’re getting close. I think we should rest here and prepare for what lies ahead,” Horthal announced, holding up a hand for them to stop and ordering the dogs to stay close and guard.
Once everyone had a chance to drink from their waterskins, Korta called Emina and Falma over to the sleds and removed the coverings from the prepared crates of animal bladders.
The bladders were how the local [Hunters] dealt with the zoots [Camouflage] Ability. Brightly colored berries were mashed and cooked down to extract the vivid color. That liquid was added to a mix of cooked chunks of fatty offal which went into the bladders before tying them off and dipping them in hot fat to improve the smell and keep the meat inside from rotting. When cooled, the bladders were placed in wood crates on the hunting sleds.
With Emina and Falma being the least proficient at combat in their group, their chosen task during the efforts to clear the orchard was to throw these bladders and help guard the sleds.
Warnel also positioned himself nearer the sleds, helmet turning from hound to hound as they took up aggressive postures and stared out into the jungle past the sloped ditches on either side of the raised road or up into the branches of reaching foliage above.
“I think they are surrounding us,” Laiya spoke up, and Toren nodded to confirm. The zoots were indeed gathering, more silently trickling in from the jungle depths and taking up positions near both sides of the road as if waiting in anticipation for the chance to join the coming bloodletting.
“They are. Stay alert, and keep your weapons ready. I count 27 so far. More on the west side, but ones on the east side are slightly stronger,” Toren apprised his group.
Maybe due to training, even the normally vocal horror hounds had become silent in anticipation.
The situation reminded Toren of the time he, Yana, Avril, and Owen took on their first ‘monster den’ mission—that tension in the air as the moment of proving arrived and they made peace with their individual choices. No matter how well prepared, success in battle was never a certainty.
Around him, the Hatterwicks were evaluating their own choices as the first real test in this new way of life that they found themselves with real stakes, real possibility of death, imminently faced them.
Everyone’s faces were hidden by helms and hoods, but if he had to guess, Emina and Warnel were likely on the verge of minor panic, and the girls were contending with the rush of Warrior’s High for the first time. Yet, just like his rag-tag group of apprentice [Hunters] those many years ago, the four stood ready in the positions each had trained for the event.
“33 now,” he updated and directed his voice quietly in Horthal’s direction, “Looks like your father was right about multiple packs and a probable lair.”
“If too many gather, it could become dangerous,” Horthal worried. “We should start thinning their numbers. Toren, can you spot them well enough to shoot?”
“I can.”
“Everyone ready?” When no objections were heard, Horthal half-drew his own bow, as with Toren and Korta, arrows already nocked, and motioned to begin.
With an acknowledging nod to Hathol and quiet confidence, Toren drew, aimed, and loosed.
The powerful but quiet thrum of the bow and the arrow’s brief whispering flight were rewarded by the sound of disturbed leaves and the thump of a lizard falling and hitting the ground.
For killing a level 7 Corvast Jungle Zoot,
700 XP Awarded.
Keep up the good work!
In the moment realization dawned on the zoots, ululating cries pierced the humid air and the jungle around them exploded into motion.
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『Name: Toren of Theravos
Race: Human
Age: 20
Profession 1: Level 2 Burningblood Berserker (2400/3000)
Mana: 28/29
Strength: 16
Constitution: 12
Dexterity: 14
Agility: 12
Wisdom: 12
Intellect: 8
Will Power: 17
Perception 14
Appearance: 8
Charisma: 8
Luck: 10
Attribute Upgrade Points: 1
Traits:
Sacrificial Guardian
Abilities:
Burning Blood (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low
Slow Bleeding (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low
Ability Upgrade Points: 1
Profession Skills:
Pain Tolerance 4
Severe Wound Recovery 3
Berserker Knife Arts 1
Spear 9
Club 8
Focus Rage 1
Combat Awareness 3
Intimidate 2
Skills:
Theravos Language (Speaking) 15
Theravos Language (Reading/Writing) 10
Religion 10
Meditation 5
Bone Strengthening 3
Hunting 20
Butchering 13
Archery 19
Stealth 17
Arithmetic 4
Foraging 16
Tree Felling 6
Running 12
Mana Sensing 14
Danger Sensing 1
Wound Binding 8』