Eric took a deep breath of air smelling of cattle manure, fresh green grass and a thousand blossoming flowers. He couldn’t help grinning with an unexpected surge of contentment, his eyes taking in a modest farm with rows of young chestnut trees growing between long narrow fields of barley and wheat, along with a carefully tended herb garden next to the cabin whose fragrant scents served to delight the nostrils and mask the more earthy scents of the farm.
“Come, Eric. You can wear father’s other coat. Finest wool, yes? Now can you manage the steps alright?”
Agda gently helped Eric down the steps after dressing him in coat and cap of wool. Clothes that now itched just as he remembered, before he had taken on a superman physique immune to such mortal quibbles as skin sensitivity and allergies. He was pleased to find that the spear was as useful as a walking staff for mud-slicked steps and loamy ground as any walking staff… and surprised to find that he might have stumbled once or twice with a body that felt so different from the dream of movement and mastery he had savored for the past year. Even if his soul was now draped by familiar garments indeed, his own body at the peak of mortal health… along with a mostly but not completely healed wound that tugged his sore muscles in such a way that he had to walk carefully. At least until he warmed up a bit. He sighed after a few minutes’ exercise, relieved to find the sharp spike of pain warming up to a very mild soreness no worse than a good workout as they walked past the growing chestnut trees.
Agda gave him an oddly apologetic smile, Her own bonnet firmly in place, a single lock of curly blond hair the exact same shade as her daughter’s slipping free. “Sorry, Eric. I had thought ours would be a simple walk about the farm, but Father…” she sighed. “I think Father wants to take your measure.”
Eric smirked at that, having his own suspicions such that he wouldn’t be surprised at all if he was being shadowed by what he might have suspected had once been one of Washington’s sharpshooters or filled a similar role, even now in the iron sights of that rifle. A weapon normally used for hunting that the English had hated, because though the reload time was absolute shit compared to a musket, it was perfect for what it was designed for, a single accurate shot. Ideal for hunting pheasant, or sniping English officers at longer range than musket balls would even hit.
He almost thought he felt a prickling on the nape of his neck.
Still, since his intentions were innocent, and he suspected a protective father just wanted to make sure his daughter was in the care of an honorable man, he walked calmly and kept his suspicions to himself.
“Over there, Eric. See the tree line, just past the apple trees and the fenced in potato fields?” She sighed, shaking he head. “Next year we’re finding a better place to grow them, even if the soil is ideal. I swear those woodland foragers steel more potatoes than we even claim!”
Eric smirked, gazing at several apple trees rustling in the breeze, pretty sure they were grafted to be of such small size with uniform looking apples, and he didn’t deny the tiny spark of joy he felt when Agda casually lifted herself on tippy toes and claimed two winners, handing him one with a smile.
“I find something fresh and tart aids the digestion after well-cooked stew.”
Eric grinned, taking a bite of surprisingly juicy apple, both tart and sweet.
“Mmm…” he said.
“Excuse me?”
Eric chewed and swallowed. “It’s good. Really good.”
She gave him that warm smile once more. “I’m glad. Now come. See the trail right there? It leads to my favorite forage areas.” She chuckled softly. “Practically an extension of the farm, really. Don’t worry. I’ll stay close to the tree line. We’ll hardly move farther in than we have from the farm to the edge of the fields.”
Eric smiled. “It’s okay. This spear serves as the perfect walking stick for the couple times I almost tripped over a clod, because I am a clod… but seriously, my abdomen’s feeling better and better. I think the sore muscles just needed some blood-flow in order for me to warm up a bit and now I feel almost comfortable.”
This earned a concerned look. “How comfortable, Eric? I really don’t want you to… Eric!”
Her eyes widened with momentary dismay when Eric allowed himself to flow into a basic spearman’s stance, his weapon held in mid guard before he slowly did a half lunge, more a careful twist of his hips with an emphasis on his back muscles that ended with his spear at full extension and only the slightest painful twinge before he pulled in his spear and stepped back, now leading with his former rear foot, spear held in a high hanging guard.
“Eric, don’t strain yourself!”
Eric gave a relieved smile. “It’s okay. I actually feel fine, no strain or tug, as long as I’m careful when shifting my stance and balance when giving point like this. And I’m more than able to use winding parries to counter any bandit’s saber or bayonet…” He demonstrated with a series of halfmoon counters that relied on his steady left arm and a right arm the bent and flowed, leveraging the spear as he shadow jabbed after sliding past an imaginary opponent, only wincing once while doing so.
“I’m actually feeling, well… not that bad, to be honest. Only a little sore,” he said a second later, ignoring the deep breaths he was taking.
This earned a scowl. “I can see the sweat on your brow. Please be careful, Eric. Don’t undo all my hard work!”
Eric flushed. “Agreed,” he said, holding his spear once more like a walking staff. “I’ll rate my performance as let’s say... five out of thirty. Which, for a flesh and blood mortal like me, is actually pretty good!” He said brightly, before gesturing toward the obvious path through the dense forest they approached. “Shall we?”
Agda gave him a hard look, before her features dimpled in a smile. “I’m glad to see you’re more than just a handsome face, Eric. If you still have the energy… yes. Let’s make the most of our forage and return while the sun is still high.”
Eric grinned, nodding his agreement as they made their way along the surprisingly wide and well maintained woodland path. He found his mood lightening with the presence of the forest all about him, delighting in the scents of oak and pine, forest mulch and growing things. The air was sharp, clean and fresh, free of the scents of woodsmoke and dung. His ears delighted in the rustle of branches and leaves, the avian sonnets and chirps as they carefully made their way under the thick forest canopy, entering the first woodland glade in what seemed no time at all.
Eric blinked at the sight of so many mushrooms growing between what looked to be carefully place slabs of damp stone, his nose wrinkling at the faint scent of manure and fresh, loamy earth as Agda immediately began looking over the mushrooms sheltered under every stone. Only then did she begin harvesting what looked to be a carefully balanced variety of mushrooms when he suddenly understood.
“These are yours! The carefully placed rocks, the humidity, the tiny trickling of water that’s basically irrigation from the brook I hear nearby, this is basically your mushroom farm!”
Agda blinked at this, then huffed. “Well of course the are. After the initial forage, why wouldn’t I apply grandmother’s arts to make sure we have a plentiful supply that will never run out? And this way, it’s easy to spot any unexpected shoots that I didn’t deliberately place, to make sure no poisonous mushrooms would taint our harvest and imperil all our lives.”
Eric blinked at that. “Shit, just how dangerous is mushroom gathering? Ouch!”
“Watch your tongue, Eric!” She huffed, then smiled. “Yes, and that’s why the villagers only trust my harvest for trade. Because I harvest only the most common and popular breeds here. See how uniform in coloring and shape these baby bella are? Uniform soft brown cap, white stalk? And these portobellos, what everyone in town calls open caps. They have a slightly darker brown coloring with thicker stems and of course, the most obvious difference is the much wider caps. They have a meaty flavor that work quite well in stew. And thanks to the uniform shape and texture of the handful of varieties I grow here, it’s very easy for me to spot and remove any unwanted or dangerous strains that I’m always on the lookout for.”
She gave a relieved smile, looking at her harvest as one full basket became two. “And I can happily say that there isn’t a single tainted shoot among those I’ve collected.” She gave a nod of satisfaction. “Good. I’ve thinned my crop, and there will be plenty more to harvest at their peak in a week’s time. And now, let’s make your spear useful.”
A bemused Eric didn’t resist when she casually hooked the basket handles to the lugs of what was now most definitely a walking stick and mushroom carrier more than any weapon of war.
Eric chuckled. “I’m glad to see that I’m finally of use.”
“Indeed you are,” she declared, teasing him with her smile. “Now come. One final clearing, and then we can head back to the farm.” Her eyes filled with concern. “Unless you’re feeling poorly?”
“No, I feel fine,” Eric assured with a smile. “The hike’s really doing me good, filling my lungs with sweet fresh air,” he declared, which was all his companion needed to hear for her to immediately take a path at the far side of the mushroom clearing, now going up a winding trail to a clearing that left Eric breathless. Freezing where he stood.
For he recognized the clearing with a center of thick lush grass and the faint tracings of chalk, even as Agda, not registering his look of shock, solemnly took out a tiny silver scythe and began trimming the heads of a handful of flowers whose petals shown so shockingly brightly… even when he closed his eyes.
Magic.
He was sure of it.
And the smudged chalk pentagram he recognized as well.
Heart racing, he forced himself to stillness.
Because if his sense of deja vu was accurate, if he really had been here before, who had carried him? How had they managed to take his thrashing injured form across multiple fields and along a woodland trail?
It made no sense.
And yet…
Feeling as if he were striding through a dream, he slowly walked to the very center of the clearing, gazing down at faint tracings of chalk, and inhaled.
His guts knotted with more than remembered pain.
For he could now taste the scent of wolf musk in the air.
And even if most of his character sheet was hidden, such that he had access to little more than his friend Jacob once had, and only because Eric had awoken him to it… he sensed what would be his Mana Sight tingling as an enigma was revealed.
The air abruptly rang with forlorn howls.
Eric stiffened, spinning around to catch an alarmed Agda’s gaze, her hand frozen over a bush covered in fluorescent blossoms shining so brightly through his slitted gaze before his eyes opened fully and the flowers faded to a purple so dark it was almost black. And somehow, Eric knew that the fluted flowers wouldn’t show in any almanac of flowers or plants of the colonial era.
“Eric, wolves!”
Eric nodded, hands gripping the haft of his spear. “You’re going to have to carry the baskets, Agda. I need my hands free.”
For some reason, hearing the words said aloud made her pale, though she didn’t hesitate to claim the baskets, before darting back the way they had come.
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“Come on, Eric. We have to leave. Now!”
Eric dipped his head, heart racing despite his careful breaths, unashamedly using his spear truly like a walking stick so as to not lose his footing on slippery leaves and uneven terrain as they hurried back the way they had come.
Bursting into the lower mushroom clearing just as the howls rose in pitch.
Eric braced himself, spear held at the ready, but there was nothing.
Agda’s demeanor only grew more anxious. “Come on, Eric. We have to get back to the farm. Hurry!”
Eric nodded, but Agda had already left, tearing down path, leaving her baskets of mushrooms behind.
And that like nothing else had Eric’s gut twisting with alarm, his gentle caretaker now sprinting with the grace of an athletic young woman who wasn’t going to let jumper, blouse, or winter coat slow her down.
It was all Eric could do to keep up.
But with a fierce sense of satisfaction and with only the slightest twinge in his gut… keep up he did.
He immediately began to feel a stitch in his side, however, carefully balancing spear so the weight and strain was on his legs, hips, and back, and not on an injured abdomen that had already healed far faster than it had any right to in a mortal body.
“Emily!”
Agda’s scream pulled Eric out of his intense focus, simply trying to keep a strong balanced stride on the uneven ground. Only then did he dare look away from his feet and the girl he was chasing, bonnet slipping free as cornsilk blond tresses fluttered in the wind.
Eric quickly turn his gaze to a sight that filled him with horrified dismay.
A powerfully built figure who at that moment looked as much bear as man as he roared at the pack of wolves quickly encircling him. Wolves that emerged even then from the cabin whose glass-paned windows had all been shattered, the predators showing an intelligence and ruthlessness unusual even for wolves.
And these were no half-domesticated beasts with the blood of dogs and coyotes mitigating size and temperament. What they now faced were actual full-sized predators of centuries ago that were one with the wild forests of an untamed continent.
Utterly free of any domesticated bloodlines, they were primal beasts who feared nothing and no one and reveled only in the hunt, so many dark truths revealed to Eric with the fire in their eyes as they circle the roaring man desperately holding long barreled rifle and screaming child in desperate arms…
Yet with a single forked whisper, the vile nature of these creatures proved to be beyond what even the most primeval woodlands of Earth had once sheltered.
“Give us the cub, human. We must regain our strength, and your family was chosen!” Hissed a massive specimen covered in crimson fur, two hundred pounds if it was an ounce.
“Give us the cub or we will slay you both!” Roared an even larger coal black specimen, showing bone white teeth as it snarled and snapped.
“And the first one that approaches will die on the spot!” Agda’s father roared, desperately positioning himself with the stout log cabin at his back, panicked eyes desperately searching for something, anything as the wolves tightened their circle.
“And then you and your cub with both die!” Charcoal hissed.
The man flashed a bleak, bitter smile. “True. But one of you has to leap first. Will it be you, Charcoal? Or another? Which wolf will you order springing to their death for your glory when they have a better chance of living just by tearing out your throat and leading in your place?”
The largest wolf stiffened, hackles rising. “How dare you seek to pit my brothers against me!” He roared, as Eric moved as fast as his burning thighs could carry him, palm burning with the hot sting of desperation as his blood kissed steel, not giving a fuck for the added pain in his side that his desperate movements earned him.
“We will strike you as one, foul hunter! We shall tear out your throat and feast upon your entrails! Only then will we devour the child. Only when you and your daughter have both fallen to our pac—”
Eric roar was primal and calculated, unleashed to make half a dozen coiled bodies freeze for the heartbeat needed as he roared and struck.
Steel singing with the bite of his blood blazing at two thousand degrees pierced supernaturally resistant hide.
His target, the massive charcoal grey wolf, belched a choked off scream as Eric’s razor sharp blazing spear tore through hide and slipping past ribs to plunge deeply into his target’s flank.
He then yanked his weapon free in a shower of blood as he stumbled over his prey, ignoring the sharp flare of pain in his side as he sent the massive wolf crashing to the ground.
The surprised creature wheezed, pink frothy blood spurting out of its mouth as it struggled to lift itself before collapsing back to the ground in a stupor as Eric choked back a scream of his own, blazing spear held in high hanging guard. Even that caused his golden blond hair to singe and smoke where it fluttered close to the white hot spear head he now held in at the ready to slam down upon the skull of any wolf that dared to approach. His eyes sting madly and he didn’t care as his wild furious gaze met the remaining wolves and he embraced the fist lesson Vincent had ever taught about fighting for real.
Every fight should be treated as a matter of life and death, and in a fight were a single strike made the difference between life and death…
Seizing the Vor, claiming the initiative was absolutely everything.
It was the only thing.
A lesson first embraced when running a slaver who had kidnapped and sold his sister through with a spear… with the same howling fury as his blazing steel head now met the snapping jaws of a second wolf as it yelped and stumbled back as Eric roared and charged, lunging forward and aiming for the fur covered jugular, tensing his gluts and twisting his hips and back, minimizing the strain to his stomach even as he plunged blazing hot steel through his foe’s throat in a shower of blood.
He paid no heed to the messages flickering in his skull as he allowed the momentum to spin him around with a dancer’s grace, back foot and left hand now leading as a third wolf leaped and time seemed to slow as Eric’s heart roared with desperate fury.
Lips curling in a fierce smile the equal of the wolf’s furious howl as it lunged for Eric’s throat… Eric leaning back… back… before spinning around to plunge the tip of his blazing hot spear in the eye socket of the wolf who had thought to circle from behind.
Cracking the creatures skull as 2000 degree heat blasted through its brain, killing it instantly.
You have successfully slain a fully sapient Lycanthropic Beast in melee combat!
EVE APPROVES OF THIS BATTLE!
You have gained one level as Death’s Disciple as Gold trumps all System limitations and structures!
Eric felt a sudden frisson of awareness, transcendent understanding as he became one with himself and the bloodthirsty wolves all around him.
Once awkward movements became fluid grace, mind flooded with countless overlapping images of how to weave and twist past snapping teeth, rolling under howling predators before bracing his spear and ramming it into the gaping maw of the closest wolf attempting to ambush him, eager to snap down upon Eric’s flesh… only to screech in monstrous pain as the feral beast’s throat filled with killing fire, perfectly honed steel blasting through the roof of its mouth as a spray of boiling crimson scalded Eric’s exultant flesh.
He choked back a curse when he felt something tear inside him where it shouldn’t, but there was no time!
NO time to do anything but force himself back to his feet as he yanked spear free of his target as a steadily held rifle barked its discharge, the air filling with white smoke as the wolf that had been leaping for Eric’s stumbling back crashed to the ground, stone cold dead as Eric wheezed, spinning around, blazing spear head lining up with the final wolf that stopped abruptly, eyes wild with alarm.
“No. You break covenant! We were promised the blood of an infant, and this child is still too old for the sacrifice! And I recognize your scent. You should not be here!”
Eric flashed a bloody smile. Hating the fact that it was his own blood.
“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”
The wolf howled. “How dare you! Mord will have your head for your offense!”
Eric’s bloody smile widened. “Mord’s dead.”
The wolf lurched back, trembling as its hackles rose. “No. That explains the weakness… the ruin… impossible! Mord was Silver with the strength to traverse all five realms! He was destined to be king of New York, of the planet entire! There’s no way he could be dead!”
“Yeah, he said much the same thing. Didn’t keep me from claiming his soul.”
The wolf’s eyes widened. Of course Eric knew he was saying too much. But he had to keep the wolf distracted. Distracted while Agda stared on in horrified silence, not daring to move. Distracted while Agda’s father desperately tamped powder and bullet down the barrel of his gun with the desperate single-minded focus of a trained sniper.
“No, impossible! You’re just a mortal boy! There’s now way you could—”
“Mortal? The fuck I am! The name’s Eric Silver. Prince of Arcadia! Lastborn son of Aurelia Silver, Winter’s Queen!”
Eric’s grin widened as the wolf glared at him with horror and fury so visible on its lupine features.
“New York’s mine, asshole. As are the keys of its ascension. I took out Mord, I’ll have Lord Song’s head upon a pike before the week is out, and I’m taking out anyone else that gets in my way!”
The wolf howled. “You will pay for what you’ve done! My brethren and I are not finished yet! We will devour your babe, your woman, your heart!”
It turned to glare Agda’s way as Eric raised his spear for a desperate throw.
“We’ll feast upon your bleeding corpse, reclaim Mord’s power and rise an—”
It’s words cut off as a spurt of crimson sprayed from the massive hole in its throat, collapsing to the ground, wheezing and gasping for breath, before a snarling Eric rammed his spear between its ribs, over and over again, ignoring the growing fiery ache in his own side… and then it was done.
You have successfully slain multiple Lycanthropic Beasts in melee combat!
Eve approves of this battle!
You have gained one additional level as Death’s Disciple as your divine avatar infuses you with Peril’s Boon!
All Finesse and Perception boons have been fully quantized!
Partial Quickness boon quantized as neuronal rewiring strives for idealized configuration. Fast-twitch muscles will finish generation in 1 week’s time!
Your meridians now flow with Spiritual Energy!
Vitality boons need 24+ hours to manifest, so long as you embrace a mortal’s shell.
Strength boons need 7 days to fully manifest, so long as you embrace a mortal’s shell.
Note! You have blossomed as far as you can, challenging these foes. You may earn no further levels fighting common-tier Lycanthropic beasts within this echo of New York.
--______________________________________--
Eric Silver – Rank 2 Death’s Disciple.
(Note! Multiple boons enhancing attribute gains!)
(Aggravated Injury. Under the care of Journeyman Apothecary)
Physical Characteristics
Strength – 14 (31.1)
Vitality – 13 (30.1)
Finesse – 17.5
Quickness – 18 (30.7)
Appearance – 36
Mental Characteristics
Scholarship – 12
Percepton – 18.5
Willpower – 15
Charisma – 13
Potency Pools
Arcane Potential – 16
Mana Pool – 192
Spiritual Energy – 22
Qi Pool – 264
Soul Reserves – 19.99
Skills Recalled
Spear – Rank 9
Unarmed Combat – Rank 5
Find Weakness – Rank 5
Acting – Rank 3
Negotiation (Intimidation) – Rank 3
Blood Mastery – Rank 1
Heat Surge – Rank 1
--_____________________________--
Battleforged Book 4 has just hit Audible!
2. Be clear and concise when making your diplomatic offers. Let everyone know all the wonderful benefits they'll enjoy by doing things your way! — If they play their cards right, they might even get to keep their heads!
3. Speak softly, and carry a BIG CANNON! — Because the best negotiations are when your competitors are looking down the barrel of your gun!
4. If all else fails, you can always pull out your DINOSAUR COLLECTION to impress all your new friends!
Someone he cares about has been kidnapped by sadistic goblins working with corrupt bureaucrats who are eager to make him pay for interfering with their plans of military conquest and economic dominion.
Good thing Eric has a BIG ARMY!
An army that's absolutely PERFECT for crushing ANNOYING little problems that threaten any girl silly enough to fall for a guy like him.
Sadly, his mother has made it clear that negotiation is the best path forward when dealing with corrupt administrators. Especially when SMART negotiations just might give his sister the breathing room she needs to fortify her own growing kingdom.
Eric is forced to agree. If nothing else, this is a great opportunity for him to level-up his Negotiation skills. And he can think of no better negotiating tactic than GROWING HIS UNDEAD LEGION TO MASSIVE PROPORTIONS!
Preferably by including everyone's childhood favorite: DINOSAURS! — Lots and lots of hungry dinosaurs!
Then click the link! 22.5 hours of action and excitement to enjoy :)
