She was more frustrated than she could ever remember being in her entire life. That the spells and Skills she’d gained from her class were primarily geared towards non-combat situations hadn’t ever bothered her. Purify this, bless that. Heal some scrapes and bruises every now and then when the person came to her instead of going to the local clinic or temple.

Yes, she had a couple of spells that were destructive, like [Firebeam] and [Fireball], but nothing like her mother. She had known that her mother had been an adventurer in her youth, and had even risen to Rank C, something respectable for a girl from a small village.

Her mother used the spirits to attack her enemies, from wind spirits that could defend her by blowing arrows away or attacking by pulling the air from the lungs of her enemies to earth spirits that could form and be a wall between her mother and those trying to kill her. The point was, her mother was versatile in a way that she wasn’t. And it frustrated her now because she hadn’t been able to do anything for Joram before he’d been felled.

Or after.

Even as the goblins were about to break through the reinforced door, Myra ground her teeth in frustration. She wanted to release a [Fireball] and incinerate the impure amalgamations of Mana that were trying to kill them all.

Then she gaped when Joram commanded her mother to move out of the way, staring at the very large and very bloody man as he retrieved some footwear, cleaned them out, then put them on.

From there, she remained shocked as he eventually bullied a stunned Theril into moving out of the way so that he could throw a rock so hard that the goblin that it hit had its brains dashed out. Before it had even fallen, Joram had dropped low as a couple arrows came through and Theril once again blocked their view with his shield.

She turned to her mother at the same time that she turned to her and exchanged an incredulous look with her. They then turned to stare as Joram who then shimmered slightly before glancing back at them, a slight smirk on his face.

A few more impacts from the battering ram opened the hole in the door further, allowing a goblin to start jabbing around with its spear.

Finally, Myra thought as she prepared to scorch the goblin with her [Firebeam] when Joram suddenly reached up, grabbed the spear, and pulled. The goblin, as stupid as ever, tried to tug its spear free until Theril’s sword ended its life. Joram just turned slightly, said “Here,” and tossed them the now free spear. Her mother reflexively caught it, as dumbfounded as she was before they both crouched low again to avoid yet more arrows.

Her mother handed her the spear, but she’d had enough. She peeked over the edge of the table, saw an opening, and cast [Fireball]. The spark shot towards the opening in the door as Joram ducked a bit, then flew out the door as she yelled for everyone to duck.

The blast was satisfyingly loud, as were the shrieks of pain from the monsters.

Then Joram said something weird before getting up and slipping out of the hole in the door, once again stunning everyone present. It took them a few seconds to react, Theril and her mother were the first to get to the door, blocking most of the view outside, but not all.

She saw bits of combat where Joram’s sword cleaved through goblins as though they’d been made of straw. Then the hobs started to recover and the smaller goblins began to organize.

“Stay here,” Theril muttered before he, too, slipped out of the hole in the door, allowing her to get right up there with her mother who was already casting spells as she reached over and took the spear from her.

She was about to object when her mother leaned back and threw the spear, taking a goblin through the neck. Not to be outdone, Myra sent a [Firebeam] into the gut of a large hob, setting it alight, its fat catching fire and crippling the monster.

Her mother cast another spell, this time an earth-based one if the now skewered goblin archer was any clue.

But then the combat grew too close, making Myra nervous that she’d hit an ally rather than an enemy if she sent any more [Firebeam]s out, so he watched. Watched and prayed, then smiled when she remembered that she could still do more.

As Joram was pushed back by another hob, she cast another spell, [Bless], and hoped that it would be enough to get the crazy man through.

After taking a glancing blow to his ribs, Joram continued to stumble back as though dizzy, worrying her even more before he stopped and suddenly smiled. She wasn’t sure why, but then a ridiculously huge, blue, crystal sword appeared in his hands. Which made the hob pause, looking uncertain. She couldn’t blame it. If she’d run across an enemy that could use a sword like that, then she would also start reconsidering her life choices.

Even though she knew that he was, presumably, on their side, that smile sent a shiver down her spine. It promised an end to all things. The man who it was attached to soon delivered.

She watched, slack-jawed as Joram easily batted away the hob’s club as it decided to attack, then the crystal-like sword nearly bisected the large hob, sending blood and gore rushing down its body before it fell over. Joram, though, had already stepped aside to meet the next hob, that was now frothing at the mouth in rage.

Even she could tell that Joram was inexperienced in combat. He would miss openings that even she could point out while falling for feints that resulted in getting clubbed more often than not. But what surprised her over the course of the few fights that remained, was that Joram was improving at a visible rate.

His footing improved to the point where he wasn’t stumbling over bodies or raised terrain nearly as often. He also began to read the feints better, taking advantage of openings when the hobs became overconfident to just impatient.

In the end, she could count fourteen dead hobs and nearly twice that number in regular goblins. She finally remembered to look at her party’s metrics, noting that Theril had taken a few wounds as his health was at just over half. Both her and her mother’s mana was well below half, though she knew that her mother had cast many more spells than she had. Kalduin was fine, his mana barely used.

She supposed that she couldn’t blame her twin, seeing as how he was on a completely support-oriented Path. Even her aid had been opportunistic considering just how many goblins had been felled.

She regretted not being able to see Joram’s status bars, as he hadn’t been part of the party they’d formed after he’d fallen.

Which reminded her, how was he up and about? How was he even alive?!

She once again focussed on the bloody human, noting a few developing bruises on his arms and torso. But noticed the distinct lack of puckered spear wound in his chest.

She felt her mother gently move her to the side before she dislodged the crossbar and pulled the remains of the door out of the way. Myra grimaced as the door fell in pieces, realizing that they’d been closer to a melee with the goblins than she’d thought. Then watched as her mother went to Joram first to check his condition, fussing over where the spear wound had been.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“How?” Celys asked, looking up at Joram strangely, causing him to fidget slightly.

Which made her smile at bit in sympathy. Her mother could make even the hardest of traders shift under her glare.

“I can heal fast,” he said, shrugging.

It was then that he seemed to notice all the blood that covered him, causing him to frown, then to look at them for a long moment.

Myra watched as her mother held in her many questions, probably just as many as she had for her barbarian of a student. For her genius of a student. For the mystery standing in front of her.

Eventually Joram spoke as the white light of a very powerful [Cleanse] flashed, clearing away the blood, gore, and dead goblins, causing her jaw to drop once more.

* * *

Joram sighed as he pulled some chairs outside so that they could all have a good sit. He, for one, could use a good sit.

The exertions from earlier had left him feeling drained, and when he’d checked his status, he’d found the reason why.

Stamina: 4/26

He hadn’t fought long enough yet, and stayed conscious for it, to have noticed that particular metric’s use, or how it affected him. Maybe he would have to incorporate some cardio into his workout routine. That, or maybe he could build a… an obstacle course? Yeah, that sounded fun. He’d need the added stamina if he intended to get into the thick of things in the future like he’d just done.

Once he’d pulled his comfy chair outside and plonked down, Celys seemed to take that as a sign that she could start in with her questions.

“I thought that you didn’t have a Path yet,” she said, annoying him with a couple of words that he didn’t recognize yet. He sighed, got up, and shifted through the pile by the wall until he found the dictionary, some paper, a clip board, and a mechanical pencil.

Sitting once more, he noticed the patient look on Celys’ face. He supposed that the village Chief wasn’t used to people getting up and walking off while she was talking. But considering… everything that had happened, he supposed that he’d gotten a free pass in that respect.

“Here, write,” he said, handing the clipboard and pencil to her, getting a confused look in return.

He held up the dictionary, then pointed at the paper again.

“I think that he doesn’t understand some words,” Myra added helpfully, getting a nod of understanding from her mother.

The next hour passed a bit slowly for him, but he was glad for the rest as it allowed his resource pools to fully replenish themselves. That, and he got to learn a bunch more words that were very useful in everyday conversations.

Questions like: “Do you have a Path,” and “How did you do x, y, and z?” were the prominent ones. They all seemed confused that he could do anything without a Path, which gave him yet more insight into how the world worked.

It seemed as though the System, the “Great Protector” as they called it, unlocked for people at the age of fifteen. Not as young as some he’d read about, nor as old as others. The ages seemed to be arbitrary from what he’d been able to tell, likely just the preference of the author than anything else.

The other questions were a bit more uncomfortable for him, though. He was generally a private person, but in this case, letting strangers know a lot about him just didn’t sit right, their apparent friendliness notwithstanding. He’d read of protagonists doing everything from keeping tight-lipped about themselves and everything that they could do to ones that didn’t care and shared anything asked of them. That said, the latter case was by far the exception rather than the rule, though most fell somewhere between those two extremes.

Ultimately, he didn’t know them very well, so they fell into the same category as anyone else from Earth would have. Be polite to them, but tell them the barest minimum as, ultimately, it was none of their business to know his business.

“Sorry, I don’t know you that well yet,” he said more often than not, which he could see frustrated Celys more and more.

To her credit though, she remained professional the entire time. He did see Kalduin nodding from time to time, obviously confirming things for his mother. As a [Priest], Joram wondered if Kalduin had a way to verify truth, like [Detect Lies] or something like that. Either way, since he hated lying anyways, he hadn’t bothered telling them any. He’d just told them that he wouldn’t answer any questions that he didn’t want to answer.

For her part, Myra looked like she’d sat on an anthill or something given how she twitched and squirmed almost constantly in her chair. He was reasonably sure that the chairback provided enough room for her tails, so that was unlikely the cause of her fidgeting.

He was still distracted by her two tails, but also by Celys’ tails as well. Is it common to have more than one tail for them? He wondered silently as he tried very hard to not look at them, remembering the tongue lashing Myra had given him about that during their first meeting.

“How are you even alive?!” Myra finally blurted out, much to her mother’s great annoyance.

“I told you, I heal fast,” he said, shrugging once again.

“But how? You don’t even have a Path! You don’t look part troll, so how?” she asked, eyes practically blazing with intense curiosity.

Joram just pointed at the clipboard and Celys understood, writing the question down for him, then passed it over to him so that he could inspect the new word. A minute later, he was frowning at Myra, affronted by the implication that he’d have troll blood in him.

“I am not a human,” he said, giving her a frown. “My… people can heal faster than others,” he said, then regretted it as they now looked at him like an alien.

Then the timer on the stove went off, making the lot of them jump a bit.

“Time to stir the food,” he said as he stood up and went back inside, once again passing his broken stuff on the floor. He sighed, hoping that he could [Repair] the lot of them without first needing to be “higher” level. In other words, before he understood things better.

He quickly stirred the stewed veggies, then opened up the instapot and pulled out the pot with the help of an oven mitt. Once the tender meat was transferred to the larger pot, he stirred it again, and set another timer, lowered the heat, then went back outside.

As he sat, he noticed their noses twitching a bit, their tails swaying to and fro slightly. Guess it at least smells good, he thought, somewhat pleased with that.

Then Kalduin finally spoke up, surprising him with one of the first good questions they’d asked in the past hour.

“So, why haven’t you chosen a Path yet?”

Joram nodded, then thought for a few moments before answering.

“I want to take my time choosing,” he said simply, causing them all to blink at him, Myra going so far as to dropping her jaw in surprise.

“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous that he’d given something away that he hadn’t meant to.

“You have a choice of classes?” Celys asked carefully, now giving him another look-over, this time much more appraising than before.

Again, he hated lying, so he didn’t deny it, nor could he just clam up and not seem shady as Eff, so he nodded.

After another minute of her appraising stare, Celys finally spoke again.

“More than two choices?” she asked carefully, observing his every move.

Now, he knew that he was terrible at lying, even when playing poker with his family, so he knew that if anyone knew any of his “tells”, then they’d already have shown and given him away. So, again, he just kind of gave up trying to hide things.

“Enough,” he said, putting his very stubborn foot down. “That is private,” he said, then changed the subject. “Is anyone… wanting water?” he asked, realizing that they’d somehow managed to miss the word for thirsty.

“Thirsty?” Kalduin asked, providing him the word. “Yes, please,” he said, giving Joram a generous nod, which he returned before getting up and heading back inside.

He didn’t say anything when Myra followed him in, nor when she offered to help him carry the cups out to everyone. Looking back inside at the mess, he sighed again, then went in, picked up the table, then angled it out the door and set it up for them to sit at.

After plucking a few arrows out of its surface, it was ready to go, if a bit worse for wear. He’d have to fix that later.

Fortunately, the conversation veered away from him and to topics more general… well, towards the goblins and where they thought they were coming from. That was when he learned that their village, Kirkwall- which he hoped was nothing like the other one he was more familiar with- was indeed off to the northeast, about an hour or so away by foot.

Maybe Reldan had just gone off to look around more, he thought, remembering how he’d thought his village was to the west.

Given that they’d not seen signs of dungeon goblins yet, the distinction of “dungeon” perking his interest, made them think that they were coming from somewhere in the west or south. Then he remembered that the other goblins had come from the south, making him wonder if dungeon goblins got along well with “normal” goblins at all. So, he asked.

Celys gave him another weird look before she eventually spoke.

“There are versions of every race that can come from dungeons,” she said, immediately hooking his attention. “In every case, the dungeon version and the regular version always fight. They are never anything but hostile towards one another,” she said, shaking her head. “Basically, anything coming from a dungeon is hostile towards anything that originates from outside of a dungeon.”

“Huh,” he grunted, wondering if dungeon monsters could, or would, get together with other dungeon monsters to ruin peoples’ day.