God Class, page 42
Silas felt his heart still thudding in his chest, still held onto the air in his throat, but slowly exhaled and let his shoulders collapse. He nodded, not fully committed to the idea that it was just some small, harmless creature but acknowledging that, whatever it was, it was not coming after them. Still, as a measure of safety Silas briefly snuck into the tent to grab his sword and rifle, noting that Tulk and Orland Burk had finally fallen asleep. Burbles climbed off of the sleeping stranger at the sight of Silas and crawled over to follow him back out of the tent.
Silas felt himself calm down as he sat back with the others and allowed Burbles to climb up to his shoulder. He thought that it would be nice to pet the odd creature, but he wasn’t totally sure petting a poisonous mushroom crab thing would be a totally smart idea. Instead, he decided to just leave the crustacean be and find out more from Argor when they returned.
“Oh! The crab has joined us as well!” Reimond said with some excitement. “Now it is a true party!”
Esabell laughed and gathered her cards, fanning them out in front of her face. “Alright then. Silas, I will play the first card this round and we will go slowly until you grasp the game fully.”
She laid down something that looked to Silas like a big baseball bat, but she explained that it was a cudgel, similar to a club. He nodded in return then examined his own cards.
Silas looked through his hand, seeing the various silhouettes of different swords, a long bow, an axe, and some kind of polearm. This could be pretty simple considering the reach that some of the weaponry had, not to mention that he felt like he could argue why a club could not effectively block an arrow, but he wanted to come out of the gate swinging. With a smirk on his face, he began to unfold an idea.
Hey, Helper, he thought to himself. Which weapon is most effective at countering a cudgel?
Silas really hoped that this would work. The interface thing that lived in his mind now often could explain various parts of the world to him however he had never asked it something that was not specific to Galleon, and he wasn’t totally sure it would help him out at all. But if it could…
[A cudgel is a short, stout blunt weapon typically fashioned from wood or wrought iron. It is most effective for disorienting an opponent at close range and crushing bone, and it is believed to be one of the earliest tools used by evolved races. While the cudgel is the perfect tool for incapacitation or not-lethal blows, its short range leaves it easily countered by longer weapon such as a spear, halberd, or most polearms. A skilled user in Blunt Weaponry may parry a thrust or slash, however an equally skilled wielder of a polearm may utilize the both ends of the weapon with deadly precision]
And there it was. Silas laid down the polearm with pure confidence, feeling the satisfaction of a cheat well done, only to be told it was actually called a naginata. Still, he won the turn.
And, he won the next.
And the next.
By the time Esabell and Reimond were ready to change shifts with the others, Silas had won three rounds against each with no issue. Both of his team mates were baffled by his apparent natural talent with the game, so much so that Reimond gave Silas the deck to keep as a reward for picking it up so quickly. Esabell argued that clearly Silas pretended not to know the game just to cause an upset, but that was quickly shot down at the reminder that Silas barely could name any of the weapons properly and often called them “Big sword” or “little sword.”
Feeling pride warm him up and put his mind at ease, Silas crawled into his bed roll and nestled in for some sleep.
Brief sleep.
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Twenty-Two
The Cost Of Sacrifice. Part I.
“Up! Ready your weapons!” A voice called from outside the tent, followed by a loud whistle. “We have uninvited guests!”
“GUESTS!” Burble reiterated and skittered around the tent with claws raised.
Silas shot up, the fog of a short sleep still clouding his mind and slowing his movements a bit. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and quickly grabbed his sword and rifle before making his way out.
Tulk and Orland Burk had already exited before Silas could even stand upright, and he could hear Pawlin and Ingran begin to debrief the others as Esabell called them into formation. Silas exited under the cover of a dim moonlight, and he stared deeply into the pure black of the tree line. The ground vibrated gently below his feet, and the sounds of rustled foliage and cracking branches echoed out into the desolate night around them.
Tulk took front and center as Esabell called for the Arrow formation, which would put the team in a pyramid pattern. Tulk would lead as he was by far the stronger melee fighter, with Ingran and Pawlin taking up the center, mid-range positions as Silas, Reimond, and Esabell held up the rear with their ranged prowess. Silas was sure that he could match Pawlin and Ingran in melee or at least come close, but he knew that he vastly exceeded them with his ranged combat, mainly thanks to the bumps in his Rifle proficiency, so he stayed quiet and held his position like the average good soldier would.
Unfortunately for Burk, this was a formation made prior to his arrival and one was of a few that never added him in. However, it was also the best for handling a defensive position against multiple unknown enemies in the total darkness so there were not many other choices. With that, Burk took a roaming position in the rear to fend off any unseen flanks. The odd man took out twin daggers, and it was at that moment that Silas remembered he had never actually seen the man train in combat or use weapons at all; he tried to tell himself to keep an eye on him, but the rushing sounds were growing louder by the moment.
“Goblins?” Silas called as he readied his rifle nervously.
Growing up Silas had watched countless movies showing flintlock rifles being loaded and wielded in haphazard ways that seemed fun in theory but were ultimately less than practical. A grizzled soldier ripped open a bag of gunpowder with his teeth, pouring it over the barrel and letting a good portion of it tumble down to the ground before tossing in a lead ball bullet and jamming the ramrod in to situation it. Then, of course, the hero would blind-fire the bullet and hit his target from an unfathomable distance with deadly accuracy.
This was apparently very wrong, as Esabell pointed out to him on his very first time.
Instead, it was a delicate process that required speed as well as precision in equal doses. The black powder had to be added carefully and in the right portion. The ball itself, which had been iron here and not lead, was added carefully, and the ramrod was gently used to press it all together before the weapon was read to fire. Even then, flintlock rifles and crude black gunpowder were not always reliable leading to regular misfires or delayed shots. Still, Silas had the edge of his experience based growth system that allowed for rapid proficiency gains, and soon he could prepare the rifle in 6 seconds flat; far faster than anyone else.
He was the first to have his firearm raised toward the tree line.
“No,” Tulk called back, a sword gripped in each hand. “Not the rumblin’ of my kind. Somethin’ smaller, but a lot of ‘em.”
“Rifles! Up!” Esabell called from beside Silas as her and Reimond raised theirs. “Pikes! Out!”
Pawlin and Ingran stood with their spears out at the ready, with Tulk between them at the front. Burbles shot out and skittered around Tulk, taking her own battle stance.
The ground rumbled as whatever it was drew closer still, and more sounds could be heard from within the dark forest. Near them, only the flickering embers of the campfire provided real light outside of the moon and stars, and they could just barely make out the glint of something approaching.
A beast shot from the forest in full charge. It was large and dark, and it bleated loudly into the night as it came to a halt before them. The moonlight showed the soft brown of its hair, the titanic nature of its strange antlers, and the fiery fear in its dark eyes. The deer creature, easily the size of Silas’s mother’s minivan he thought, crashed its hooves into the dirt with an enormous thump! It screamed again, and its antlers began to glow in radiant blue light. It was as if small motes of energy were growing out of them, each orb becoming the size of a baseball and illuminating the area around them. It braced its long legs, snorted its derision, and prepared to charge them.
[Etherim Elk]
Silas waved off the notification, ignoring it and shouting, “What the fuck is that!?”
“Etherim Elk,” Ingran grunted. “A damn big one at that. On your guard! The beast is spooked!”
Without another warning, the massive elk charged forward.
Tulk instantly moved into one of the forms Silas recognized and he called out to the Goblin with a warning.
“Tulk! No!”
“Stupid human!” Tulk shouted as he withdrew from his stance and side-rolled, lashing out in fairly normal sweeps of his blades.
They sunk in to the elk’s chest leaving crimson lacerations in their wake. The elk bleated loudly in defiance as it continued its charge. Three rifle shots burst forth, two connecting just above the sword cuts while another went just a bit wide. At the same time, the pikemen cocked back for twin thrusts then shoved their spears forward with incredible forth, each penetrating the elk deeply. While its progress was halted, the force of such a great creature was enough to send both men flying backward. Esabell, Reimond, and Silas had just enough time to dodge away from their tumbling teammates without being crushed.
Tulk was the fastest of them, launching himself within a second of his first strike to land a double-fanged thrust into the creatures side. Yet even more impressive was Orland Burk, who had leapt over the unit to land on the beast’s neck, anchoring himself with his daggers.
The deep, red blood pooled from around the screaming elk, as Tulk and Orland traded strikes against it in rapid succession. Much to Silas’s surprise, the enormous enemy had succumb to the wounds and fallen before he could even reload his rifle. It collapsed to the ground with a thud, groaning as the light left its eyes and its antlers flickered into darkness once more.
Reimond could only laugh as they assisted Pawlin and Ingran up to their feet, and soon the unit had all chimed in with laughter. Even Burk had chortled along. Burbles, having to show her combat prowess, attacked the dead elk with thrusts and chomps of her great claws while shouting, “Stupid!”
“All of that for a single lost fauna!” Reimond practically chirped. “Oh, how I cannot wait to tell my future lover about the heroic tales of my triumph over this ancient demon! This scourge of the forest!”
Silas laughed and crossed his arms beside Reimond. “Have to admit, it’s definitely the biggest damn deer I have ever seen.”
“Elk,” Burk piped up from mere inches behind Reimond.
“Ah!” Reimond screeched.
“It is strange that an Etherim Elk would have charged us as so,” Ingran said, kneeling beside the body. “They are not combative unless they feel threatened, and it is stranger still that they would leave the confines of a forest simply to force us off.”
“Maybe it heard us and assumed we were enemies? I’m sure these things are hunted regularly if they have this much meat on them, right? I mean, can you even eat something like this?” Silas queried.
“You can, and we do,” Esabell answered. “It is not common, and a catch like this would be direct property of the capital if we had a way of carting and preserving it. Elk is served to nobles or high military officials when it can be safely found. Though, few would choose to hunt in the Hiisi due to the Goblin population’s threat.”
“You both make a good point. No reason to let the meat go to waste, and we cannot preserve it or cart it,” Said Pawlin. “Rare to see an elk with this much size around these parts though, I do agree. Would get us a few decent meals each without dipping into our rations. I can carve and-”
“Shush,” Tulk said.
It was then that everyone noticed the Goblin’s demeanor. He stood rigid, swords still tight in his grip with his eyes homing in on the dark forest again. Tulk had not joined the others in laughter and instead seemed ready for war.
“That elk is big for a reason,” he said as the tree line slowly began to glow. Individual glowing orbs speckled the forest dark like starlight in the distance, black sky. The light plumed and radiated, offering luminescence to countless shadowed, elk shaped silhouettes. “He is the alpha buck of the herd.”
“Oh shit…” Silas said, backing up and moving to reload his gun.
The others grabbed their weapons and moved toward one another to reset formation, yet each did so with careful movements as to not startle their onlookers.
“T-There are dozens of them…” Reimond said. “We cannot take them all should they charge us… We would be trampled…”
“Stay calm, Reimond,” Esabell said in a smooth, flat tone. “It is as Ingran said. These elks do not attack unless they are threatened, and besides that their alpha has been removed. We back away slowly but we stay within firing range should they choose to charge. Remain in formation.”
Tulk looked over his shoulder toward Silas; the expression on his face making words irrelevant. Silas knew what Tulk wanted to say without having to say it at all, and with that he gave a single, firm nod in response.
Should the elk charge as the alpha did the unit would be easily overrun. But, Silas and Tulk were more than regular guards. They could save themselves and their new allies. Still, there was a moment of hesitation before he agreed with Tulk. A single, flashing moment where it all unraveled as their abilities came into the light of day and were witnessed by others for the first time since Rae had departed. Silas trusted the guards, with the exception of Orland Burk, but deep down he felt it would be wrong for them to know the truth. Would they want power too? Would they see them as a threat and attempt to take their lives? Would they run off to the emperor person they seemed to fear, and then would he then hunt Silas to obtain even greater power over Galleon?
Even with all of those fears on display, Silas had to agree with Tulk. If it came down to it, he would not sacrifice these people just maintain anonymity. He and Tulk would save them, they would share their truth, and they would hope there was enough trust to keep it a secret; at least for a while longer.
The unit backed away as the chorus of grunts, stomps and bleats echoed from the tree line like a chorus. Glowing orbs pulsed on rows of antlers, while the barely visible young elk and female elks had glowing orbs running from their heads down their spines and ending at the tail. If Silas’s heart wasn’t beating in his throat, then he would have found it beautiful. As more of the orbs seemed to brighten throughout the darkness, he swallowed hard and prepared himself.
Suddenly the rifle felt slick in his palms, and a cold sweat broke out at the nape of his neck. The air itself seemed to pause and linger. Silence reigned. For only a moment it was simply the sounds of their breathing, and the sea of glowing orbs that faced them.
Then the hooves drummed on the earth.
“Here they come! Ready yourselves!” Esabell’s voice echoed into the night.
“P-Perhaps we can scare them off…” Reimond muttered in a panic. “Perhaps they will flee…”
“Doubtful.”
“Ah! Damn you, Burk!” Reimond said as the strange man appeared just behind him.
The tree line erupted with life and sound. The beasts broke through the forest in a stampede, easily covering most of the ground the unit had put between them in mere seconds. Esabell roared her command to fire as they continued backpedaling, and three rifles screamed their defiance one after another. A lucky shot, most likely from Esabell, struck true and a leading [Etherim Elk] collapsed with a whimpering bleat. Silas’s shot maimed another and sent it careening to the dirt with a wounded leg, where it was trampled by the other elk. Reimond’s shot went wide again, barely grazing a male’s antler. Silas spared his comrade a glance and saw that he was trembling, barely able to reload his rifle and move backward at the same time.
The elk gained on them, and in mere moments they would be in melee range; a sobering thought. Looking out over the stampede, Silas could see there was even more still coming from the forest, and they were easily outnumbered ten-to-one. His breath caught, the elk thundered their way forward with eyes full of fear as they threatened to collide with the group, and Silas made his decision.
“Tulk!”
“About time!” The Goblin answered.
Tulk spun as a green blur, both swords held parallel as they slashed the wind itself. Energy erupted from the edge of the blades, sparking white power in twin horizontal cuts that arced outward in enormous waves. The energy blades carved the earth as they shot forward, cleaving apart the stone and dirt in wide gashes before meeting the forward charging [Etherim Elk]. They screamed. The energy waves diced through 4 in a single shot, cleaving through bone and flesh before dissipating into the air. Gore rained outward and the felled elk collapsed into heaps of severed parts.
All around Silas eyes went wide; the eyes of his team, and the eyes of the elk.
“What in the-” Pawlin began to say as he fell back even faster, but then an immense heat and an avian peal seemed to surround the unit.
[Phoenix Shot. Type: Rifle/Fire. Rank: Rare. Cost: 335 Mana. Cooldown: 24 Hours. Effect: Fire a bullet of condensed Fire for 3X damage where X is equal to combined Dexterity and Intelligence. Has a 45% chance to inflict burning debuff on target for 30 seconds. Requirement: Rifle Affinity +30]
With his rifle aimed and the barrel pointed safely aware from his team, Silas called on his power. Warm energy flooded him as his Mana circulated and heeded the call to action. At the end of the barrel a small bird made entirely of liquid flame bloomed and grew as his power seeped into it. In only a second the bird expanded from the size of a pet store canary to that of great blade eagle, its maw wide as it screeched, and its wings outstretched in fiery glory. Silas, despite his reservations and concerns, smiled.
