Chapter 40:

  Mystery

  When I finally woke, I found myself lying on my back with my head propped up on a dirty bundled cloak. A small pile of gear had been laid out beside me, neatly arranged, as if someone had tried to make a decent camp out of chaos.

  Salted hells, my head is killing me… what happened? Oh. Right… the explosion, the gnolls, Tabatha…

  My head pulsed painfully, each throb like someone striking the inside of my skull with a hammer. For several minutes I could hardly stand to look at anything bright; even the faintest glimmer of light stabbed into my eyes. I genuinely couldn’t tell if the pain came from the explosion or from pushing Empowered Mind far past what my body could handle. Whatever the cause, it was miserable, and I struggled just to sit up from where I’d been resting on the ground.

  As nausea assailed me and my stomach churned, I reached for the last scraps of potential lingering in my reservoir and willed it to move through my body. When the potential from Mend Wounds rushed through my body, the ache in my head receded bit by bit, dulling from a blinding throb to something I could somewhat tolerate. As my vision steadied, the world around me began to make sense once again.

  Notice: Skill: Mend Wounds: is now Rank 1: level 4.

  As I registered the skill’s progression, the familiar sweet scent of mint drifted into my senses. I pushed the sensation away, pointedly ignoring it as I did my best to take account of the world around me.

  Where were Halius and the others?

  As if answering my unspoken question, a voice called out in my direction across the open field. I turned toward the sound, and spotted Chris and Paul waving at me, both looking far too energetic for men who had nearly died during the battle with the gnolls.

  “Hey, Halius, Sam’s awake! The crazy bastard survived!”

  I did my best to rise to my feet, but my balance felt off… the world beneath me continued to spin as my head throbbed painfully. Hopefully there was some potential left to harvest; otherwise I was going to have a hard time functioning in this condition.

  I pressed a hand to the side of my head and tried to rub the pain away, only to pull back with my fingers slick and wet with blood. There was a bandage wrapped around my head, but I must have bled through it the moment I began to move.

  Salted hells, I’m lucky to have survived if it was that bad.

  As I took another unsteady step, Halius appeared beside me, sliding an arm under my shoulder before I collapsed outright. I leaned onto him, as my legs trembled under my weight.

  “You shouldn’t be moving, Sam. Please, rest while we take care of everything.” His voice was tired but he still looked as immovable as ever. “Everyone… well, all who remain are safe. If I’m not mistaken, help should arrive soon.”

  I tried to protest his order to rest, but fatigue caused my words to stop short. A moment later, I was laying on the ground again, slumped beside the neatly arranged pile of supplies, as Halius went back to whatever task he had been completing.

  Deciding not to argue further, I let myself rest and propped my back against a rather uncomfortable sack filled with something round and distinctly uncomfortable. After a few seconds of shifting around and failing to find a tolerable position, curiosity finally got the better of me. I pulled the sack closer, loosened the drawstring, and peered inside.

  The sack was full of small monster cores that had been harvested from the gnolls, there were dozens of them, many no bigger than a stone someone might throw from a sling. Some glowed faintly in a soft pink haze, others pulsed weakly as if clinging to the last traces of potential left within them.

  I couldn’t help but recall what Leonis had said about gnoll spawn, and how they likely wouldn’t have cores… so why were there so many now?

  I lifted one of the cores between my fingers, and began to inspect with a slighly blurred but critical eye. It was very different to the cores that I had taken out from Tabatha’s gloves. Her cores had burned hot against my skin, and they were obviously a part of a fire affinity, or something close to it.

  These cores… were very different.

  When I touched the pink-tinted core, a strange warmth spread across my fingertips, climbed up my arm, and began to press gently at the edges of my consciousness.

  For the briefest moment, it felt as though something within the core reached back toward my soul. As that invasive force brushed against my thoughts, it felt like cold fingers trailing along the outskirts of my awareness, and I instinctively pushed back against it.

  In response to my resistance, the pink haze swirling within the core shuddered, flickered, and then collapsed inward on itself. The potential inside extinguished in an instant, snuffing itself out as though recoiling from my touch. What remained in my palm was an inert, hollow shell, nothing more than an empty bead of crystal.

  Then, as though the cores were somehow linked, the rest of the bag responded in kind. One after another, the faint glimmers of pink light winked out, leaving behind only a collection of dull, lifeless spheres that clattered softly against each other in the sack.

  What the hell is going on?

  I tried to make sense of what I had just experienced, but before I could gather my thoughts, the clear call of a horn cut across the clearing. A moment later, a small contingent of warriors stepped out from the trees, their shapes resolving one by one from the shadowed forest beyond.

  At the head of the group walked two figures. One was a grizzled looking warrior with a thick beard and armor that had clearly seen more battles than most men survived. The other, walking just half a step behind him, was a younger man whose stride was quicker and less guarded. It took only a heartbeat for recognition to strike.

  It was they young man from earlier, Curly.

  He was the same young adventurer who had sprinted out onto the road earlier asking for our help. It seemed he hadn’t followed us back into the fight at all, but rather, he had run straight to the guild for reinforcements.

  The group approached in a loose formation, their steps steady but wary as they crossed the blood stained clearing.

  My attention was immediately drawn to the armor worn by each person that approached. Some of them wore simple iron plates, while others wore various pieces of leather that had been patched together for practicality rather than style.

  Others bore pieces of far finer craftsmanship, as the polished metal of their finery caught the afternoon light, and glimmered alongside faint runes that glowed withing the plate.

  The man at the front stood out the most. His armor was immaculate compared to the rest, as it had layered plates fitted with careful precision, and runework along his pauldrons and gauntlets. With a massive sword similar to Jarus’s own, he looked every bit a decorated veteran.

  As they drew close, I recognized the Adventurers Guild insignia worked into several sets of armor, matching the same marks worn by the four… now two… adventurers who had survived the fight.

  Most of the group were initiates, but the man leading them bore the same rune on his hip that Jarus did. He was another adventurer who had been recognized as reaching that First Branch Halius had mentioned.

  Jarus, who I had failed to notice earlier, stood up from the corpse of a gnoll that he had been harvesting, and approached the other man of equal rank.

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  They gripped each other’s forearms and embraced in a quick, familiar hug. A few minutes passed as they conversed, and despite wanting to listen in, I was out of potential and my head still throbbed uncomfortably. The very idea of augmenting my senses made my stomach churn.

  Eventually, the leader of the group knelt beside Jarus, placing a gentle, almost paternal hand against the young man’s cheek. After a brief moment, he rose and turned, guiding the rest of the group as they began to move in my direction.

  I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting to find Halius standing behind me, only to find that I was sitting directly in front of the cave… or rather, what was left of it.

  The entrance had been completely sealed, filled to the brim with massive boulders and shattered stone. The explosion had collapsed the chamber entirely, preventing anything, gnoll spawn, or worse, from ever making its way back up the tunnels inside.

  I tried my best to stand up and greet the group, but the grizzled warrior raised a hand and motioned for me to stay sit. He spoke in a firm but kind voice, and signaled for one of the unranked members to move to my side.

  A young woman knelt beside me and began pulling bandages from her pouch, along with a red tincture sealed in a small glass vial.

  “Please, Mr. Garner, rest,” the man who had embraced Jarus said. “You have been through a great deal, and your body needs time to recover. My brother has explained what transpired here, and I, along with the guild, owe you Men of the Valley our thanks for keeping Jarus and young Curly alive.”

  “I’m sorry about Tabatha,” I said solemnly. “The beast that came up from the caves… I couldn’t…”

  The man raised his hand again, stopping my words before I could continue.

  “You have no need to explain. As I said, my brother has already spoken of his own failings and of the circumstances that led to this moment. What happened here is not for any of you to bear. For now, please accept our thanks, and allow us to see you home safely.”

  As he finished speaking, the female adventurer at my side finished wrapping my bandages, and then handed me a vial filled with the red liquid.

  “Drink. It will help speed up your recovery… not instantly like you priests, but it’s the next best thing.”

  “I’m… not a priest, but thank you,” I said, as I pulled the stopper out of the vial, and drank the sweet cherry flavored liquid inside.

  Warmth spread down my throat and settled in my chest as the tonic went to work. It wasn’t as potent as Mend Wounds, but the gentle easing of the pressure in my skull was enough to let me breathe without wincing.

  “Good,” the adventurer beside me said, relieved. “It should dull the worst of it within a few minutes.”

  Jarus stepped forward to join us in the conversation. “We’ll need to move soon,” he said. “Once the scouts confirm we’re clear, we’ll escort you and the others home.”

  I nodded my agreement.

  “Sounds good, I think going home sounds pretty good right now.”

  The man grunted in approval, and then ushered the group with him to begin harvesting the remaining cores.

  As Halius and the others continued to harvest the gnolls around the camp, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of disappointment that I had missed the chance to gather more potential before blacking out. My gaze drifted to the massive corpse of the gnoll Jarus had fought, and I noticed a deep crater that had been carved out of its chest.

  What kind of core must have been in there?

  The thought lingered as my eyes shifted to Jarus who was currently carrying a large sack that hung over his shoulder. Its weight was pulling the strap tight across his armor, and I suspected the core from the gnoll pack leader was tucked somewhere inside.

  I called over to Jarus, and once I had his attention, I did my best to explain what had happened earlier when I examined the cores. A wrinkle of concern spread across his face as he opened the sack to examine the large core and the others he had collected.

  It didn’t take him long to see that what I had described was true.

  “What the hell?” he whispered, his voice faltering for a moment. “I… I’ll go inform the guild master.”

  Jarus hurried over to the man who had addressed me earlier, opening his sack and speaking in quick, animated bursts.

  My mind struggled to catch up with what he had just said about the man he was now speaking to.

  The Guild Master of the Adventurers Guild was here… and he was Jarus’s brother? Why in the salted hells was someone like that all the way out here?

  If the Guild Master himself had come here personally, then the situation was far worse than I had realized… or maybe it was something simpler. Maybe he had come running because his younger brother had been in danger.

  That, at least, was something I could understand.

  As the two men spoke to one another, I watched as worry crossed Chadrun Welker’s face as he continued to examined the inside of the sack. After moment of concentration, he tied the sack closed, and bellowed out an order.

  “We’re moving out. Now.”

  Halius and the other adventurers quickly finished gathering what they could, and soon after, our group finally left the clearing behind.

  As we stepped into the forest, our group moved briskly beneath the thick canopy of trees. The smell of blood and smoke gradually faded as we left the clearing behind, replaced by the earthy scent of damp leaves and old bark. By the time we reached the familiar footpath leading toward the valley, my strength had returned enough for me to finally walk on my own without anyone’s support.

  Despite my gradual recovery; Halius, Chris, and Paul stayed close by my side. I was thankful for these men and I felt much closer to them having fought alongside them in such a dire experience. Our group was quiet for a time, but as the gate valley came into view, I couldn’t help but ask a question.

  “Why do you think the Guild Master himself came out here?” I asked, breaking the silence. “I’m not familiar with a lot, but that would be like the Duke handling a dispute personally at one of the gates, right?”

  Paul glanced back at me and nodded, his expression troubled. “Aye, it is strange. This whole situation is strange. I’ve never seen gnolls, let alone any creature, multiply that fast on such a well traveled road.” He exhaled through his teeth, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s cause for concern, especially considering how strong that pack leader was. Salted hells… I can still feel that aura crawling down my spine.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement. Halius most of all. The tightness in his jaw and the way his gaze drifted toward the ground made it clear he still carried the weight of what had happened. No doubt he felt responsible for failing to reach Tabatha before she fell in battle.

  “By the way… something strange happened when I held the cores earlier,” I said, and I told them about the odd occurrence, the way the pink haze had vanished and how every core in the bag had emptied itself the moment I touched one.

  As I finished, the expressions of my companions darkened. No one spoke at first, but the unease on their faces was answer enough. Whatever had happened, none of them had seen anything like it, and the fact that it had happened here, so close to home, made it feel less like a curiosity and more like a omen of things to come.

  “Hopefully we can get some answers soon,” Chris said at last. “Halius, no doubt your father will want to speak with the guild and hear a report about what happened.”

  Halius nodded, his brow creasing. “I’ll be sure to include everything, and will prepare accomodations for their men. You all will be free to go home for the day upon our arrival.”

  “Paths above,” Paul groaned, “my wife is going to kill me when I tell her about this.”

  We all shared a quiet laugh at his expense, but the somberness of the walk smothered the mirth of the moment just as quickly as it had come.

  Soon after, we crossed the gates that led into the valley and made our way toward the crossroads where the paths split east and west around the lake. After bidding farewell to my new brothers in arms and offering my thanks to the guild, I turned and began the walk west toward home.

  “Wait a moment, Sam,” Halius called out as he stepped out of the escort line and jogged to catch up to me.

  His armor was dented, his face still streaked with dried blood and dirt, but the steadiness in his eyes had returned.

  “Get some rest,” he said, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You did more than anyone could’ve asked today. And… thank you for standing by my side. I’ll come by and check on you tomorrow.”

  I nodded, too tired to muster anything more, and he gave my shoulder a brief squeeze before turning back to rejoin the group.

  As I continued down the path, I felt Yahm’s Blessing slowly begin to replenish the potential in my reservoir. It wasn’t much, just a faint trickle of energy, but it was enough. Enough to steady my thoughts, enough to keep my mind occupied, and right now, that was exactly what I needed.

  I wasn’t ready to think about what had happened in the clearing. I needed space from it, even if only for a moment. A little distance to breathe before I tried to make sense of everything that had unfolded.

  So instead, I directed my thoughts towards the slow drip of potential that now began to fill my reservoir, and decided it would be beneficial to focus on practicing one of my skills. Mend Wounds would not only pass the time, but it would give me something steady to hold on to. It was a simple, worthy goal in which I could lose myself… and it would help get rid of this horrible headache.

  So, as I walked, each time the reservoir filled by the slightest fraction, I caught the faint spark of it and guided it through my body in slow, deliberate patterns. I traced the flow down my arms, then nudged it upward through my shoulders, my chest, and finally through the center of my aching skull.

  Again and again, I repeated the process, stretching each fragment of power until it thinned to nothing. The steady rhythm of it, catch, guide, release, slowly pushed everything else to the edges of my mind. The routine became a quiet buffer, a wall between me and the memories clamoring for attention.

  By the time my home came into view on the other side of the small bridge crossing the lake’s outlet, I had lost count of how many times I’d cycled potential through my body. It wasn’t a full recovery, but I did feel exponentially better than I had when I’d first woken up in the clearing. The heaviness in my limbs had lifted, the pounding in my skull had dulled to a manageable throb, and my thoughts no longer felt like they were wading through mud.

  As I approached the stables, I cycled the remaining sliver of potential one final time. The familiar warmth threaded through my veins and was then followed by a soft pulse that echoed in the back of my mind.

  Notice: Skill: Mend Wounds: is now Rank 2: level 1.

  — This skill has advanced to Rank 2. This skills control and potency have slightly increased. An upgrade and merge, will become available upon reaching Rank 3 and progressing to Tier 2.

  Mend Wounds: (Rank 1: level 5)- Amplify the vital potential within a target in order to rapidly heal physical injuries. This skill scales with the Spirit attribute