Accidental Healer

Chapter 145 59 - Who are you?

Jared was right. Neither Harold nor Gorff wanted the trial to end.

We did our best to put together what we thought were compelling offers and objectives. But the reality was, two extra days of the scourge trial was just much more valuable. Even if the waves were becoming more lethal, pretty much everyone accepted the risks.

After several hours of negotiation, bargains were finally struck. Harold finally agreed after being offered the first right of refusal on any new trade deals with my fathers faction along with an absurd amount of coin and Gorff wanted shared rights to the factions shard mine also asking for an absurd amount of coin.

Neither of their demands bothered me and Jared agreed it was a fair trade. Especially considering what we were asking them to sacrifice. Besides, Jared firmly believed we were the sum of our pieces and strengthening one was strengthening the whole.

With negotiations settled a flood of crafters poured through the teleporters bringing whatever skills they had to come to our aid. Scaffolding full of humans, blue men, and elder gnomes surrounded the rising dome of the interfaction teleporter like busy bees.

Bleached white stone pillars with intricate patterns of alien birds chiselled at the top, a bronze dome sat on top of a marble base with delicate arches. The entryway was a wide archway that opened onto polished marble tiles with the portal at the center. Outside the structure was surrounded by a large square pool of water reflecting the structure's beauty.

There was room on each side of the building to allow for wings on each side but we weren't ready to build those yet.

"It's really something isn't it?"

Jared was staring at the building, his toned laced with a sense of awe.

"It's beautiful." I agreed and together we soaked in its majesty, my hands buried in the pockets of my healer's robe.

"Can you believe we made it this far?"

I could feel Jared's eyes on me. He scoffed.

"I guess I really didn't know what to expect. Maybe not anything like this." He gestured at the building with his head.

"Yeah." I mumbled.

Jared glanced at me again.

"You're worried?"

I shrugged. "When I was a kid I always felt like my dad could do anything. What kind of monster must be on the other side of this building that he's trying to protect me from?"

I could feel Jared studying me, then he looked back at the teleporter.

"Is that really what you're worried about?"

The question lingered in the air.

And the truth was, I wasn't scared at all of what might be waiting on the other side.

For all I cared it could be the creator of the system itself on the other side. What really scared me, crept into my subconscious like a parasite, was the possibility that after everything that we'd done, all that we'd gone through—I'd be too late.

But before I had the chance to answer we were interrupted.

"Layton, Jared."

Nick's hood was up, obscuring the majority of his face in inky shadows, his cowl hanging loosely over dark leather armor. His second evolution didn't change his appearance all that dramatically but there was a distinct sense of—somthing…

As if your eyes naturally wanted to slip away from looking at him, like his visage itself was slick somehow.

"The wave?" I asked.

"Its about to start." he confirmed. I peered into Nick's hood and the dark bags under his eyes were a fair illustration of what most of us were feeling. He didn't joke or make any sarcastic remarks, he just turned and evaporated into smoke passing into some unknown shadow.

He was exhausted. We all were.

I took a few steps to leave.

"The Goblins should be done anytime now." Jared noted. "There's a chance this could be one of the last waves."

That thought had already occurred to me. Still I nodded. Then continued after Nick.

I wasn't in a hurry. The first ten minutes of every wave now was filled with volleys of ranged skills and spells to thin the hordes. I wouldn't be needed for that part.

Besides, I wanted a breather to clear my thoughts. With the fighters at the walls and every able bodied crafter hard at work at the teleporter the cobblestone streets were mostly empty. I could still remember when the street I walked was just dirt. I mean, it was only like seven months ago that this whole area was nothing but trees, grass and dirt. You wouldn't know it from how it looked now though.

Buildings lined the streets on each side.

A roar of activity signalled the arrival of the horde. Explosions and squeals of pain played as a strange contrast to the picturesque mountain village. A mother exited one of the shops and entered the street holding the hand of her daughter. The child was young, maybe seven or eight.

She saw me and smiled, waving enthusiastically. Her mother smiled awkwardly and hurried the two of them along.

I waved as they passed by, struck by just how bizarre the world was now. Was this really just another night? I mean I knew firsthand it was basically armageddon just outside the walls. But here inside? A mother and daughter were shopping together.

It was amazing. I veered off the main street entering into one of the older more established neighborhoods and was greeted by a row of two story homes with pine trees, natural grass and flower beds. In the distance I could see the towers rising over the city walls. A fireball shot from one of them disappearing somewhere behind the walls into the chaos spawn.

With barriers surrounding our entire village we could attack from relative safety. It didn't mean things were easy. Despite what Harold and Gorff wanted, this trial needed to be closed.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Somewhere within these walls Trasnik and the goblins were working on the final piece. In just a few hours it would all be over and I would step through the teleporter.

A shiver crawled down my spine. Were we ready to face the rest of the world?

How was our little faction going to compare to something with the population of New York, LA, or other major cities?

Could we really do anything to help a city like Boise? I was at the wall now so I hopped up to join the other fighters.

Thousands. Tens of thousands of chaos spawn that trampled everything in their path. Trees, flowers, bushes everywhere—gone. Everything within a two mile radius around our village was essentially a wasteland.

How many chaos spawn were there really? Between our faction, the guildians, Harold and Gorff there must be hundreds of thousands.

A flicker of shadow told me Mischief was hard at work trying to cross the level 50 barrier. I almost pitied the chaos spawn. Each kill that didn't result in his evolution merely served to fuel his frustration.

An angry Mischief was not something I ever wanted to face.

Poor things.

How many chaos spawn had I killed—had my faction killed? I ran some numbers through my head but quickly gave up.

It was a lot.

And now we were almost free. That was a weird thing to think about. Even though it was only a few months, it all felt so routine now.

Without anyone giving a command, the melee fighters began dropping from the walls.

I felt my living shadow, Norso, creeping closer to me. He was likely anxious for me to follow the suit of the other fighters.

But I wasn't ready just yet. Of course I wasn't idle. I reached out with my mind casting barriers over every fighter in our faction. Even the ones dealing with chaos spawn at other points on our walls. It wasn't hard to do. The spell innately knew my intent just like always but it was a decent drain on my mana.

That was something that we didn't know before. Distance mattered. Casting barrier on six thousand people while all in close proximity was easy, hardly even needing a trickle. However, when those same people were all spread around the walls of our village, that was a different story.

That wasn't going to stop me though, even if the scavengers ignored it.

The attacks from the towers and the walls slowly died away. That was the cue for the men and women waiting at the wall to attack. They did.

Whether our people were exhausted or not, they did their job admirably. Levels helped. Higher constitution did wonders to combat weariness. Regardless, constant fights day after day still pushed that endurance to a razor's edge.

A man wearing full plate squared up with a bruiser. In the back of my mind I searched for the name of the halberd wielder.

Caleb.

One of Jordan's thugs. He was in his late thirties and was even balding when I first met him. He wasn't balding anymore. His hair puffed out the back of his silver helm as he lunged forward with his halberd. The weapon met the red shield of the bruiser.

The monster batted the weapon away and I held my breath ready to move. It wasn't needed. Caleb rotated backwards in a three sixty before the bruiser could close the distance in a smooth follow up that caught the bruiser at its throat.

This time the barrier wasn't enough and the blade passed through biting into dark steel. The weight of the swing whipped the body into the ground where the halberd continued in its trajectory piercing through the neck.

It was a clean kill. A skilled kill. It was the type of kill that was bred from battle after battle.

He wore armor and used a weapon crafted in Damon's forge, purchased with money he'd earned on his own, and didn't complain.

I watched closely. He made a move toward a chaos champion when he abruptly changed course diving sideways directly into the path of a scavenger's savage blade that was aimed at the back of another member of our faction.

Instead of meeting the exposed back of the man, the scavenger's blade met the steel of Caleb's armor glancing off harmlessly. Caleb rolled to his feet and was on the scavenger a second later.

The smaller man hadn't even seen the attack coming. Neither had I.

Caleb couldn't have had more than a second's notice to make a decision. Yet he hadn't hesitated to put his body on the line.

Everywhere I looked similar scenes were playing out. I cast a healing wave and felt more of my mana flood out.

I'd watched long enough.

The wall disappeared behind me.

Tranquility joined.

Together we plunged into the depths of the chaos spawn. It was like coming home.

At level 46 I was far from the highest level fighter in our faction. But that didn't matter, with my two classes, and piles of stats from titles, I was well ahead of everyone in our faction but Mischief in terms of raw power.

I was also the only person who'd absorbed a skillbook.

Like a tempest I swept through the chaos spawn leaving dismembered bodies in my wake. I didn't waste my time deflecting attacks, Tranquility's shadow handled that with ease. For the taller chaos spawn champions I used my fighter skills to give me reach so I could keep my legs pumping.

When I was certain the area was clear of allies I used a sweeping blade skill to clear large groups.

Senses faded and my body took control.

After several minutes of fighting Norso finally made his way to me, adding his spear to the slaughter.

Soon even he would pass me in levels. I didn't care though. I just kept swinging and notifications rained like a waterfall down my screen.

Kill after kill after kill, until there was no longer chaos spawn in front of me. I'd fought my way to the very edge of their ranks and now stood facing an empty field. In the distance healthy pines lined the forest that wasn't ruined by months of fighting.

Confused. I turned around. Norso was still fighting a group of chaos spawn on his own but was handling them easily enough.

I turned back around and faced the empty field.

Where was the rest of the chaos spawn?

I wandered a few steps away from the fighting behind me and eyed the field void of chaos spawn.

"Huh." I rested Tranquility against my shoulder.

It didn't make any sense. This was possibly the last wave the scourge trial was going to throw at us. I should still be fighting chaos spawn, there should be at least three times as many. Yet here I was—staring at an empty field…

The skin on my arm prickled.

Something wasn't right.

Why weren't there more?

As if in response to my thoughts the air at the edge of the field distorted and twisted. I took a few steps closer.

At the center of the disturbance a red orb the size of a frisbee appeared rotating counterclockwise growing little by little until it was large enough for Alex to walk through.

"What on earth…"

Three figures stepped through.

"Layton Shepard." The figure in the middle said pointing. "He has been tampering in the natural order for your benefit and thus we have been sent in response."

I lifted Tranqility from my shoulder.

He?

I studied the newcomers.

They appeared similar to other chaos spawn. In the sense that a bodybuilder looks similar to other humans. All the pieces were the same, the bruiser in the center had the customary black armor, the scavenger with its cracked leathery skin, the champion with purple duck lips and full centaur armor.

The differences?

The champion was leaner with chorded rippling muscles and a single sinister horn in the center of its forehead. The Scavenger twirled twin dark blades that trailed wisps of smoke, two yellow fangs protruded from its bulbous purple lips and its eyes glowed orange behind a shifting halo of smoke.

Then there was the bruiser.

Its customary dark plate was covered in pulsing red finger length cracks that expanded and retracted at every subtle shift. His helmet was open revealing a nearly human looking face besides the bluish purple skin and spiderweb of prominent red veins.

It reached forward with both hands and strands of mana pulled from the red gem at his chest coalescing into a double bladed executioner's ax.

"Who sent you!?" I shouted back. "What do you mean tampering?"

In response, a strand of black mana twisted its way up from the red crystal and the helmet sealed itself shut.

Looks like I wasn't getting any more out of these guys in terms of answers. I set my feet.

And my enemies attacked.