Accidental Healer-Chapter 133 - 47 - Things have changed

Gree-Cek

Boretek's meeting with the human named Kevin had been…very illuminating. So much so, in fact that it was all that he'd been able to think about since.

What were the chances that a faction, let alone a faction bordering his own, owned a blueprint to build an interfaction teleporter? Especially this early into a newly inducted world. He knew how these things worked. When the next levels of raids came, and they would, your infrastructure should never exceed your strength. It was one thing to establish a healthy community, it was an entirely different thing to build something that opened your faction up to the wider world.

The Gree-Cek wrote libraries on this very subject, and Boretek had done his research. And the research was clear. The first and most important thing you could do, was level, level and level some more. There were even scholars who outlined the ideal levels you should be at before achieving certain milestones.

For example, level fifty is roughly when you should accomplish your first notable victory. He'd been cautious of that, avoiding conflicts with factions that held more than five territories.

From what Boretek understood, the system seemed designed to encourage incremental growth. Allowing powers to build gradually in their own corners of the world, slowly. Raids would come, but they wouldn't be overwhelming, dungeons would open but no great powers would be allowed, territories would expand gradually, accumulating resources and establishing regional control.

That was the order, and the system thrived on order, especially in the early years of a new world. Regional powers would be forced to prove their dominance and face a new string of more coordinated assaults on their accumulated land. And like always, it used predictable methods to determine a faction's weight class.

The last thing a faction ever wanted to do was become bloated when the weigh-ins arrived. All this is to say, a portal connecting two factions, not in the same general region, was like gorging yourself on sweet treats. Weirdest of all—these particular treats shouldn't even be available yet…

"What does it mean?" He wondered, lounging one leg over the armrest of his throne thumbing his chin.

"Liege?" Corodan's raspy voice sounded from over his shoulder. Boretek waved his counselor away.

He had no interest in discussing his thoughts with Corodan. Not until he'd reasoned it further. New Boise, from all Kevin described, was, at most, a capable faction. Their leader seemed practical even if he was naive. But to have access to that building?

Definitely not.

One thing was for certain. If there was a faction that was strong enough to earn such a blueprint. It wasn't New Boise or their leader, Martin. It was the faction on the other side. That was it.

Someone, in another faction.

Someone powerful. Very Powerful.

Was it possible that whoever was on the other side of this teleporter could challenge his own strength? Of course it was, or at least, how he was currently. There was still plenty of time to prepare himself before Martin and his people completed their building.

Boretek slipped his leg from the armrest and stood, the cool of the smooth clay bricks kissing his bare feet. His loose toga style robe flitted quietly with the afternoon breeze and he sauntered to the open balcony of his pyramid overlooking the kingdom of the Gree-Cek.

Adobe buildings sprawled before him.

The buzz of activity played as an anthem to Boretek's goals and aspirations. People toiling away building a capital to his most loyal followers, all the while fattening for the slaughter. Of course, he couldn't slaughter everyone in his kingdom. He would spare the most helpful to his cause, and use the rest as kindling.

When the time came, hundreds of thousands would sacrifice themselves to his cause. And when they did.

It wouldn't matter who was on the other side of that teleporter.

Boretek smiled.

By the time he was done here, he was certain, there wouldn't be a soul alive on this earth that could challenge him.

***

I sidestepped and Tranquility disappeared into the side of the charging Gremtaur just under the pit of its front right leg. The strike was far from lethal, but the screeching wails told me that it didn't enjoy it either. Pressing my hand against the furry leg knotted with writhing muscle I slid my blade free and flicked my wrist flinging black ichor into the trees.

The monster twisted its torso unable to maneuver its long frame easily in the trees taking a swing at me with a menacing looking mace the size of my torso. It seemed almost in slow motion and I easily stepped out of harm's way. The mace swooped past me like a pendulum and I was spattered with bark and splinters when the weapon demolished a tree.

With a lunge I separated hands from arms and the mace thudded to the dirt gnarled hands still clinging firm. The Gremtaur reared back black blood spewing in fountains from its forearms.

From its hind legs the Gremtaur was easily over twenty feet tall. Tree branches whipped at its face and back when out of nowhere a spear zipped into view sinking deep into the monster's chest. Its front legs kicked and spasmed and it keeled

forward, unable to support its own fall collapsing awkwardly to the earth.

Footsteps followed and Norso appeared to withdraw his spear, only to plunge it several more times into the monster's chest.

He shoved one last spear thrust directly into its eye, pulled back his spear.

"Sir, please forgive me for saying this, but these creatures are beneath you." He said as he wiped the spear on the forest floor.

Ever since I'd accepted the stupid dark elf as a squire in the Order of Tranquility he followed me wherever I went.

Currently, I was acting as vanguard to a supply of marble from the quarry. Unfortunately we'd learned the hard way that even if the shipments were being pulled by Stetson's golems the chaos spawn would still target them.

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We'd reasoned that if there were no sapient lifeforms then the chaos spawn should leave them alone. Stetson had not been pleased when we found his "beautiful creation" disassembled with great enthusiasm.

So now, each shipment had a detail accompanying it. Two weeks is how long it had taken to build the road and Gremtaurs were not just common anymore, they were coming in groups. Since the start of the trial, our army was now entirely transformed. There wasn't a single fighter who was under level fifteen.

Well aside from the immigrants from our added factions. The Guildian's population ballooned all the way to six hundred and ninety seven and more were being added each day. Damon's smithy was working in full force and each day more and more of our fighters were outfitted with at least uncommon grade armor suitable for their classes.

Even after all that growth, Jared and I both agreed it would be best for small groups accompanied by our elites to guard the shipments.

"It's just work, Norso."

"Work that can be done by your underlings."

I slipped Tranquility into her sheath and trudged through a mess of brush and detached branches. My finger tapped the chaos spawn and it puffed away into meat, 15 UBC's, claws, and eyeballs.

"I don't have underlings, remember?"

Norso shuffled after me. "Semantics, Sir."

I rounded on the taller dark elf and pointed at his chest. "No, it's not semantics. If you want to stay in the O.O.T you better figure that out."

Norso stopped following and studied my finger. "The Order of Tranquility? The order you founded and are head of?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Is that what you want to be? Huh? An underling?"

"No one wants to be an underling. It's a simple hierarchy." He stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well that's not how I was taught." I turned and began walking to the next body.

"Well perhaps whoever taught you was wrong?" Norso suggested.

"Maybe whoever taught you was wrong." I countered over my shoulder.

"Simple deduction suggests otherwise, are you not the leader of this faction? Is that not your elevated status over others?"

"Maybe leaders shouldn't be elevated, did you ever think of that?"

Norso's brows furrowed and for once he didn't respond right away. "How can they lead then?"

"By going first." My finger poked at another corpse, puffing it away. "Or, you know, by example, or something like that."

My dad was always the one who talked about leadership. According to him, leaders were supposed to be servants. They were in place solely to create prosperity for the people they lead.

But Norso's impressions seemed to be closer to what I observed from actual people in leadership. People propped up, who endeavored to expand their own influence at the cost of those that elevated them to their positions.

Or maybe I had it wrong and was just being pessimistic? Either way, it was hard to think of the people in my faction as underlings or subordinates.

We all just played our parts.

"Perhaps."

He didn't sound convinced, but I really didn't care all that much. Personally I just enjoyed watching our faction grow and become something more. If I could help them do it, that's all that mattered to me. It wasn't altruistic either, if anything it was purely self serving. Like the satisfaction a personal trainer might feel to see their clients achieving results.

It was intoxicating.

Progress, that was my drug. And our faction was rich with it.

"Let's get back and divide the spoils."

A few seconds later, the cobbled stone road came into view through the trees.

The cart waited untouched on the pathway, Stetson's iron golem strapped to the front with chains and leather. Two four by four foot marble cubes rested heavy on the wood planks.

Six guards surrounded the cart as a safety measure if any chaos spawn or Gremtaurs slipped through. Together, our party totaled fifteen. It was composed of a mixture of humans, Guildians, and, unfortunately, one dark elf.

Excited conversation drew my attention coming from further down the treeline.

"Two! I got two!" A young man with moppy red hair and chain mail armor bragged emerging from the trees a little ways down with two guildians.

The female guildian smiled, apparently amused. "You fought well."

"I did, I really did."

The young man's name was Mitchell, an implant from Cassie's faction. He noticed me and waved enthusiastically. "Layton you should've seen me out there! We kicked some serious ass!"

Mitchell was someone I was really excited about. He was level twenty three and had an infectious enthusiasm towards pretty much everything. There was a good chance he'd have a really nice evolution.

I waved back, beckoning the group to hurry up. Mitchell nodded and jogged a few steps when some motion caught my eye.

Behind him branches shook from high above in a tree and a dark mass burst out.

My eyes grew wide, and I launched forward refreshing everyone's barriers.

The black mass fell from above and time seemed to move in slow motion.

I shouted and the three reacted in an instant.

I pushed my feet to move faster.

They'd be fine, they had my shields. Besides that they were fighters. They should be able to hold their own.

Still, something about this attack felt so off. What was this? A new chaos variant we hadn't seen yet?

There was no way I'd arrive in time, but that was ok, they'd already seen the threat and were on the move. The guildian woman flicked back her robe and a staff appeared, the guildian man raised a wooden shield.

Mitchell pulled two swords free as the mass dropped directly in front of him.

The red headed man set his feet, and lunged, this would all be over in a second. Mitchell would kill this thing and we'd have an answer to what this new threat was.

The creature moved.

It was fast, faster than Mitchell was prepared for. He didn't see it yet, but he was over-extended.

That's fine. My barrier would make up for it.

I easily tracked the creature's attack. A serrated blade, darker than normal steel, just shorter than my longsword. Only a few steps away now, I didn't have an angle to use a skill.

Mitchell's attack went wide and the blade crept ever closer, any second it would meet the invisible barrier and rebound off—any second.

But that moment never came.

The dark blade met the exposed freckled white skin of Mitchell's neck and bit straight through. Blood splattered hot on my face as the tip tore through the other side.

From the corner of my eye, a bolt of light shot from the Guildian's staff filling my vision. For a heartbeat my mind refused to comprehend what I was seeing and it felt like I was watching everything from somewhere far away.

Mana released from my fingertips, flowing in near imperceptible strands, carrying with it all the healing I could muster.

In spite of my efforts, Mitchell's swords slipped from his hands.

His body sagged, head falling backward. My magic kept pumping, frantic and useless, until his knees hit the dirt. I wrapped my arms around his body just as he was about to keel forward.

My hands shook, but I forced myself to focus. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The monster was dead. The female guildian had taken care of that, but the blade was still buried in Mitchell's throat. If I had any chance of healing him the blade would need to be removed.

I let Mitchell fall to his side. The weapons serrated edges meant I couldn't just pull it back the way it came in. Ignoring his eyes, I broke the pommels from the blade and pulled it the rest of the way through.

"Hold on Mitchell, just hold on—"

My hand gripped the metal and I pulled.

"I'm sorry, just hold on—you're going to be ok, hold on."

Warm blood pooled at my knees seeping into my robes slick and coppery smelling.

"Almost there Mitchell, just a bit more and everything will be fine."

There were no tears, but my spit felt thick and sticky. Eventually the slight tug gave way and the sword pulled free.

"There we go. See? Now you can heal, you're going to be ok."

I placed my hand behind his head and began healing him again, letting the mana flow freely.

Green eyes, bright and piercing, stared sightless into the grey clouds above.

I felt the strands of mana pouring into the pale body. Blood gushed hot into my lap.

Why was this happening? I'd done everything right. He had my barrier, he was strong, he was close to evolving.

In my hands, I could already feel Mitchell's body begin to cool. I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry.

Seconds.

That was all it took.

No one spoke for a long time. Or at least it felt long. Swallowing hard, I tenderly closed Mitchell's eyes, smearing blood over his eyelids.

"Does anyone have a blanket?" My voice came out hoarse. "Or something that we can cover him with?"

The Guildian woman reached out a hand and a dark tunic appeared. "Use this."

With a crimson covered hand I accepted the tunic and reverently laid it over the young man.

Once he was covered, I lifted his body, and walked slowly to the back of the cart where I rested him softly on the back edge.

When I turned and looked up I found thirteen pairs of red, bloodshot eyes waiting for me.

"Bring the body of the monster and the sword. Things have changed."