Born a Monster

“So tell me what you told Guur.” Uma told me.

“Huh?” I said. “I don’t remember doing anything like that.”

“He says you came to him in a dream and taught him to replace suppressed traits with valid ones.”

I blinked. “Is he certain that was me? I mean, I only just learned of that technique a few days ago.”

“He swears it was you.” she said. “Called for his armor one day, and he’s training to be on the front lines again. It’s all he talks about.”

“That certainly doesn’t sound like me.” I said. “But who stands to gain by pretending to be me? And why teach Guur how to... to do something... Damn it.”

She smiled at me, that predatory smile that carnivorous teeth were so good at.

“I... I think I may have subconsciously done just what he says I did.” I admitted. “It is the simplest explanation that fits the facts.”

.....

What was the alternative? That someone, some sinister manipulator wanted to return a champion warrior to the front lines? What would they gain by setting me as the hero? How would they know to time it so precisely, when I had just learned the technique myself? There were too many impossible things to fake.

But...

[You currently have 4/4 Dream mana.]

If I had done such a thing, even without consciously willing it, why wasn’t I missing any mana?

True, I could regain one a day just by getting a full night’s sleep...

“When did I appear to Guur?”

She continued smiling at me. “Six days ago.”

It was possible, even credible. So why didn’t it feel right?

Had I ever cared about any of the minotaurs other than Rakkal? Did I truly even care about Rakkal? Could it have been an effect of the legendary axe, rather than my own will?

“Uma,” I asked, “Tell me what my quest to Othello was, from your point of view?”

“You know, and you messed it up. Probably deliberately. How could you have hidden such hostility toward me for so long?”

“What? I have no strong hatred toward you, Uma. Please, tell me. What did YOU expect?”

“You already know.” she huffed at me.

“Uma.” I inhaled deeply. “My name is Rhishisikk, and among other things, I am incredibly dense. But what I am not is a liar; you know me incapable of that. I. Don’t. Know.”

“How do I know you haven’t abandoned that useless class?”

“Ugh! Anyone with three social classes can...”

“Do I LOOK like a woman who hangs around those who waste their lives like that?” she reached up, stroked her horns. “I am a warrior born. A warrior raised. And I will die a warrior’s death, probably on this battlefield approaching us. Fourteen. Thousand. It’s just the impossible thing that Rakkal would choose to end his life trying to do.”

She burst into tears. “My life is about to end. And you, you who were supposed to bring me a company of heroes, each seeking my hand...”

She turned to look behind us. “You brought me those three. Gladiators. Show offs. Imbiciles.”

I sighed. “I told you what happened to the others.”

“You lost them. Like an idiot. Fighting battles that shouldn’t have been attempted.” She wiped her face with the back of her wrist.

“Battles they couldn’t be talked out of.” I snapped back.

She glared at me. “Between the two of us, which has the social classes? The Charisma statistic above two? Who has over half a dozen trained Charisma skills?”

“Most of those are for resisting mental and magical attacks.” I said.

She wagged a finger at me. “Are they Charisma skills?”

“Fine, but I don’t...” I said. “Ghyuuk...”

“How many manipulation or social Charisma skills do you have?”

“It must be six or more, but I thought it was limited to subskills.”

How much socializing had I DONE? It didn’t feel like that much...

[No matching skills found.]

“My System says I have no such skills.”

She looked back the direction we were walking. “Your broken system isn’t among the things I want to talk about. You being more accomplished in social skills is.”

“I... Surely Guur has more as well, being in charge of a city for as long as he has been.”

Her footsteps become stomps. “Idiot. My elder brother is supposed to surpass me in all things, no matter how hard I try. Let him have his dominance in useless skills.”

She looked up at the sky. “I wish him a quick return to battle. If he has even half his strength back, it is strength we will need.”

“So why not train these new minotaur in order that their might increases?” I asked. “It can’t take long, with their low levels.”

She lowered her gaze to the walls of Whitehill. “If only it were that simple. Or that quick.”

“Five experience a day, you could get them from second level to third in two months.” I said. “With combat experience thrown in...”

“None of us will be alive after meeting that army. The luckiest and strongest among us will be lucky to survive the conflict with their vanguard long enough to see the army that kills us.”

“It can’t possibly be that bad.” I said. “Isn’t the army mostly infantry?”

“Foot troops.” she said. “Melee. Archers. But what will defeat us will be the divine troops.”

“Divine...” I said, “That can’t be right. Where would they get that many truly devoted people?”

“The only place I can think of is the Khanate. It’s the only place with that many people who have divine classes.” She said. “But for them to put together entire units of healers...”

“Units of what size?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“How many healers?” I asked. “There is a difference between five hundred and five thousand. Do they fight on the front lines, in touch range of other soldiers? Or are they in the back lines, only treating those that are carried to them?”

“Huh. I guess Lord Orestes will know.” she said.

Lord Orestes... he was devious enough. But what would he gain? Or was there some other person prowling the shadows...

Actually, where WERE all our Stealth champions? As a rule of thumb, for every person blessed with arcane or divine power (enough to form a class around, at least), there were four ‘mundane’ people of equal rank, a Militant or Stealth class. So, roughly...

What WAS the ratio of warriors to sneaky types?

In any case, we had to have a vast pool of stealth classes. Some of those had to be experienced, to become champions.

So where WERE they?

In fact, where were our arcane and divine mana users? I mean, there were plenty of low level people in the towns. But... I’d seen the Shining Isles. It seemed we had a dearth of champions, and thus of heroes. It didn’t make sense; we had the threats, and thus the XP.

I mean... my System was broken, thinking that all my level one classes added up to being a hero. It was annoying, but...

No. No. I was going to focus.

We had the threats, and thus the available XP. We certainly had our share of third level warriors, those who could learn Flash Step and such. But where were our Champions, our Heroes?

Because, with even half of the reported enemy army, we really needed them now.

“I’m afraid too many of the reports are consistent.” the mayor told Uma, once we were inside the city. “It’s fourteen thousand, including eight thousand mercenaries from the Khanate who have a divine class.”

“How does a nation half our size afford that kind of army?” Uma asked. “At our highest number, we didn’t have close to that many soldiers.”

“Except that we did.” Mayor Hapsburn said. “This nation was born with those soldiers slaughtering each other. The wars since then have only reduced our military. It is Rakkal’s foolish...”

It was hard not to get spattered with blood. Uma did what any of her brothers would have done, holding her anger in until it exploded outward in sudden violence. She just threw back a hand, brought it forward with a stone and wood hammer pulled from her inventory.

“That was unlike you.” I said, wiping blood from my face with a towel.

“These years of war change all of us, I think.” she said. “I have no use for those who tell me the situation is hopeless.”

“But... You said yourself, none of us will survive.”

“Indeed. But we’re taking as many of these city knights with us when we go. Just in case.” she said.

“How many do you think will go with you, now that you’ve murdered their mayor?”

“All of them.” she said. “Or I’ll kill them and their precious families.”

I rubbed my eyes. “But there must be a better way of getting them onto the field of battle.”

“Not for me, there isn’t.” she said. “We need them now. They’re coming.”