Chapter 60 — Dangers of the Jungle
As Toren roused from his sleep to see the message shards awaiting, he barely held in a triumphant shout to the skies—or the thatched roof above—pumping a fist into the air instead.
“Yes!”
Not a shout. A restrained cheer.
His two lowest physical Attributes increasing first made sense. More importantly, it proved that training with [Burning Blood] and muscle-mending potions did let him strengthen past his previous limits.
He was still planning to use his Attribute Upgrade Points before the flood hit—there was no sense risking his and the others’ lives for a possible future benefit he might never live to see—but he now had proof that he was correct to hold the points back as long as possible and save them for his highest Attributes as Old Sellim had constantly advocated.
Of course, if he was seeing Attribute increases from this training, the Hatterwicks were surely seeing more. At this rate, Falma might have a start almost as good as some nobles, and Laiya, after resetting her Profession, might become as fearsome as [Reaver] Yorne, maybe even more powerful.
Toren tossed his bedsheet aside and rolled to his feet. He did some stretches and grabbed his clothes.
The thought was enough to feel excited about the day’s plans and how much stronger they could all be by the end of the day. And each day after that.
He worried about how invested in the Hatterwicks he was beginning to feel. There were surely better Professioned and better Skilled companions he could team up with now that he had recovered a decent level of strength and combat Skills. Vera and the three sketchy guys he’d met when first trying to find housing came to mind.
And yet… there was something about helping the Hatterwicks survive these dangerous lands that reminded him of his time as a reliable ‘big brother’ to the other orphans at the orphanage.
Taking on the responsibility wasn’t hindering his progress, either. Teaching them was helping him hone his own Skills, and now with the mine and possible rift, plenty of opportunity existed here to continue gaining XP and making money. And should the situation sour or stagnate, there was nothing stopping him from selling the stead to the Hatterwicks and leaving to team up with stronger [Monster Hunters]. Really, his plan had always been to have the Hatterwicks run the farm while he hunted anyway.
“Good morning, Toren. Sleep well?” Emina asked him as he pushed the cloth curtain out of the way and took his seat at the table. Warnel’s wife was just getting started on making more tavi porridge.
“I did,” Toren answered. Emina moved about, chopping and tossing the fruit chunks into the pot without obvious wincing. “How are you feeling? Will Warnel and the girls be recovered enough to hunt?”
“Better than ever, by Jian Fu's grace—or is it Wen Fa's providence? Can we really use potions like that every day?”
Toren laughed. “Not hardly. But for a short while? Say…” He exaggeratedly looked at the jars of processed ingredients and potions that they had already prepared and smirked. “Every other day might be fine.”
Emina snorted a laugh of her own and ruefully shook her head. “Every other day, huh? Ridiculous is what this is. This whole situation. Everything we need, here in this jungle. Enough that we can joke about dosing the whole family with the equivalent of Attribute-growth potions like they were water. All this morning I can't help wondering why we spent so long working so hard in a tier-1 city like Greenvale when Skill and Level gains in tier-2 lands are as common as bird droppings from the sky, and then I remember that we are about to face death in the form of a beast tide not even two tendays from moving here.”
“It’s exactly that,” Toren agreed. “Yana and I had planned to move to a tier-2 territory to start making names for ourselves once we were strong enough and had enough funds.”
Emina set the knife down and turned more fully toward him. “It didn’t work out?”
She grimaced after asking the question, the answer obvious.
“No.” Outside the window, the jungle was coming to life with Horevi’s rise. Through the claim stakes, Toren could feel the bees stirring and sending out their scouts and drones to greet the morning.
Warnel groggily stumbled out from the couple’s shared bedroom and claimed a chair. “Morning.”
“Morning, dear.”
“Tavi? Have to admit, I’m starting to see why people pay so much for these. Haven’t felt increases like this since I was a boy just off my Skill Day.”
“Increases that will only matter if we survive,” Emina reminded.
And that was the gamble they had all taken in choosing the colonies over the hopelessness they had each found themselves facing in Greenvale.
Toren continued to gaze out the window, his earlier giddy feelings tempered by the reminder of his previous companions’ end, devoured by a different sort of beast tide, and the challenge his current companions had to overcome to see a different fate.
Toren watched from behind as the father-daughter pair both used [Sure Cut] to part and relocate a hedge of skinsear bramble that was blocking the way forward as quietly as possible.
Going around would have been the better choice if they were actively stalking a beast, but they had already failed both the hunts he had planned to start the outing with. Naively, Toren had underestimated non-[Hunters]’ ability to scare off prey. His previous hunting companions had all been [Hunters] for as long as he had been Professioned and apprentice [Hunters] before that. That and their early successes with the zoots surely skewed his expectations.
He’d tried to get a quick arrow into each, the armadillo and the vulture, to cripple them for Warnel and Laiya to kill and salvage the hunt, but both had defenses impervious to unenchanted arrows. The armadillo’s armor being up to the task wasn’t surprising. The zoots would have killed or chased it out long ago otherwise. For his arrow to clang off the vulture’s feathers like hitting an iron plate was yet another reminder of what was required to survive a tier-2 jungle.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Toren had tried to [Empower] the arrows to no success. Yet. Warrior Spirit didn’t seem keen on working with arrows either, but as with [Empower], he was certain that there should be a way to make it work.
In the case of the armadillo beast, bringing Falma and the dogs would have probably allowed them to run it down, but… he hadn’t wanted to risk bringing Falma or Emina just yet, not until he was more sure of being able to keep them safe.
And so, that left the ants. Thankfully, ants weren’t the kind of foe to run away.
Riling up the nest too much and leading them back to the stead was still not ideal, but he was better prepared than before. Alchemy was the best way to deal with insect swarms.
He thought about saving the nest to get [Alchemist] XP for Emina or equivalent acomplishments for Falma by having them finish it off with an alchemical fire bomb, and still might, but with Emina already too high a level to get much from it and Falma not yet receiving XP, the best gains would be for Laiya to level and use her Attribute Upgrade Points for Attributes. The accomplishment could improve Falma’s initial Profession, but that would also apply to Laiya, if she sacrificed her current [Haberdasher] Profession as planned.
After passing through the bramble, Warnel looked back to confirm their direction, and Toren motioned for them to continue as they were. [Mana Sensing] was telling him that a patrol of ants would be passing by just over the next gully.
Laiya was the first to spot the column of thumb-sized ants, motioning to get her father’s attention and, like her father, looking back for instruction. Toren gave a thumbs up, and stowing her spear, the girl reached inside a large belt pouch with her off-hand to pull out a zoot bladder, her newest Ability filling it with mana.
One of the important tasks for the day was Testing Laiya’s [Color Permanence] Ability, something they understandably couldn't do during spars, so Toren was also curious to see if it would affect the ants.
The high-arcing underhand toss landed on two of the ants injuring them and splitting open upon the root-snarled shallow slope. The rest of the column swarmed the remains of the bladder, attacking it and each other and getting more of the purple fatty dye on them.
Except for one that took off back toward the ants’ colony.
“Runner,” Toren warned. He didn’t move to help, though. A steady stream of reinforcements like he had faced would be good experience for Warnel and Laiya before they confronted the hive proper.
Warnel flung a knife and missed, cursing, “Shaved coins!”
Laiya hopped the gully and brought her spear down on one of the ants only for two of the less painted ants to jump on her spear. Abandoning the spear she switched to his old club and set about pasting the ants. Warnel joined her, flicks of his sword cutting them, but he too had one jump onto his blade and scurry up its length.
Grabbing another small knife, Warnel [Sure Cut] the troublesome ant just as it reached his gauntlet.
The ants were quick, even disoriented and confused, darting around and throwing themselves at any threat. The footwork and lunges required to kill them were exhausting just watching.
“No XP,” Laiya complained after the last one was crushed and tried to wipe sweat off her brow only for her helm to block the motion. She looked worriedly in the direction the one ant had escaped.
“Is the runner going to be a problem?” Warnel asked as he retrieved his knife.
Toren nonchalantly shrugged but under his helm he was smiling. “It’ll bring soldier ants, which give XP, at least.” He pointed toward the spear Laiya had just picked up. “Looks like your dye Ability works pretty well, Laiya.”
He was fairly sure both grimaced upon seeing the purple stains on the spear blade and Warnel’s sword.
“Dad, you take the lead. I’ll back you up with my spear,” Laiya suggested and her father nodded.
They didn’t get far before the first three forearm-sized soldier ants rushed out of the underbrush.
Warnel stepped forward, sword in motion-
A blur of black fur was the only warning Toren got before a large feline shape sent Laiya crashing to the ground.
Rapid screeches of Ability-strengthened bone on metal sounded out as fangs stabbed into the quilted cloth of her armor and the protective plates crunched against each other with a further sound like a tin can being crushed. Laiya cried out, desperately trying to adjust her grip on the spear to cut at the large feline only for two lightning quick clawed thwaps to strike her helm, and the girl went limp.
“Noooooo!” Warnel launched himself after the cat that was already leaping back, ‘intent’ mana flowing out from him and the ants forgotten. “[Sure Cut]!”
~~~
Name: Toren of Theravos
Race: Human
Age: 20
Profession 1: Level 7 Burningblood Berserker (3300/14000)
Mana: 32/112
Strength: 16
Constitution: 14
Dexterity: 14 → 15
Agility: 12 → 13
Wisdom: 12
Intellect: 8
Will Power: 18
Perception 15
Appearance: 8
Charisma: 8
Luck: 10
Attribute Upgrade Points: 6
Traits:
Sacrificial Guardian
Abilities:
Burning Blood (Rank 1) Proficiency: Mid
Control Blood (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low
Flurry of Blows (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low
Ability Upgrade Points: 6
Profession Skills:
Severe Wound Recovery 6
Empower 4
Focus Rage 6
Combat Awareness 6
Berserker Weapon Arts 3
Pain Tolerance 6
Physical Conditioning 7 → 8
Intimidate 5
Skills:
Danger Sensing 3
Stealth 18
Mana Sensing 14
Wilderness Harvesting 12
Theravos Language 11
Religion 10
Divided Focus 6
Meditation 5
Bone Strengthening 3 → 4
Hunting 20
Archery 19
Running 15
Wound Binding 8
Arithmetic 4
