Accidental Healer

More bears came, more cats died.

Mischief tried his best to limit the casualties but by the end the ticker showed one-hundred and fifty party members remained. He'd lost over fifty of his original party.

The problem was simple. He couldn't be everywhere at once and the cats had no semblance of survival instinct or tactics. They fought like desperate wild animals.

It left the killing field confusing and disorganized. Mischief moved like the wind, but it just wasn't enough. The bears were strong and if the cats weren't careful all it took was a single swipe of the paw to lay them low.

Mischief sat on his haunches surveying the carnage.

Another forty were gone and there was still one more wave left in this dungeon, let alone the other two anomalies that Layton suggested he use.

At this rate, by the time they were through with all three anomalies, there wouldn't be any of his party left.

To cap it all off, his reward from the previous wave left him confused.

You have chosen to guide.

Passive ability unlocked: I think therefore I am - Through the help of mana, your consciousness has transcended mere instinct.

Your example will not go unnoticed.

Warning: Not all beasts aspire to sentience, sheep are known to follow. Be wary around cattle and other stock animals, lest they comprehend their fate of being raised for slaughter.

Mischief had all sorts of images in his mind of things he'd never learned, so he was vaguely aware of the term livestock. That wasn't really the confusing part though.

Was the ability suggesting that his presence would somehow force creatures to reason and think, slowly forcing them into sentience?

If that were the case, it would be very helpful with his goals for the mana cats. He wondered how long the process might take. It hadn't really taken him all that long…then again he did earn the interpreter title in the trials.

He decided now would be a good time to look at the reward for the second wave.

Reward: Uncommon - Quarterstaff (upgradeable), Uncommon - Quarterstaff (upgradeable), Uncommon - Katana (upgradeable)

Three weapons that were completely useless to him. Layton complained about this exact phenomenon on multiple occasions. At the time he'd considered it funny—It didn't feel quite as funny anymore.

What did Layton usually do when he got stupid rewards? That was easy.

He gave them away to other people in his faction. But Mischief wasn't a faction leader like him, but did that mean he couldn't do it?

All around him the cats were either munching on bears or lounging around. If they were making any changes to their consciousness, the concept of mortality didn't seem to be sticking. Only 45 minutes before the third wave started and there wasn't a whiff of fear from any of them.

He wished he had any insights at all into their levels. He knew theoretically they should be getting stronger, and therefore less likely to be killed. But that hadn't proven true from wave 1 to wave two. It was the exact opposite actually.

He tried to reason out why that might be the case. Maybe the ones that were leveling up were also killed?

There had to be some standouts though right? Just like in Layton's army. He hadn't really paid much attention to that, he was too preoccupied on keeping the stupid things alive.

It was a good question though. Were there some standouts that he'd let get killed? Layton was so much better at keeping things alive then he was. If these stupid things weren't so foolish they probably would've all survived, but no, of course they just had to attack him on sight.

Mischief huffed and prepared to clean up the wave, he reminded himself to keep an eye out if there were any of the cats that had fingers to grip and use the new weapons. He tried to imagine one of them swinging around a weapon like the humans did, it seemed ridiculous.

What point were their teeth and claws if they needed weapons? It was just stupid.

He scoffed at the idea of it when something caught his attention.

It was "green eyes"—he was standing stone still, eyes bearing down at a small pile of black fur, and his burnt yellow chest hair was covered in crimson.

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Mischief's hackles raised, and he bounded closer to investigate. Had they seriously not learned? He thought he'd made it very clear after the last raid, the fallen cats were off limits.

Obviously they would need a clearer message.

He raised his paw, reminding himself to hold back. He didn't want to kill him afterall..

His paw was already on its way down when green eyes looked up—his look stopped Mischief in his tracks.

There was something different in the emerald swirls that he couldn't place but also couldn't miss.

Its eyes moved back to the corpse—it was the troublesome black cat that cannibalized the tabby orange cat. Mischief scrunched his nose, confused. It didn't take a genius to see this cat wasn't killed by a bear.

"You killed it?" He prodded tentatively. These creatures only really seemed to understand the most basic level of communication so he didn't really expect much.

So when the cat responded by pointing at the corpse and nodding, Mischief's eyes popped, then immediately narrowed.

"Why?"

It didn't respond quickly like last time. Mischief waited. Finally it pointed at its own mouth and shook its head.

"You killed it because it ate the other one?"

Again, it took its time to respond. But when it did, it pointed at him. Mischief studied Green eyes—he didn't understand. He let out a deep low rumble and Green Eyes tilted his head.

Seeing the simple gesture eased some of his frustration. Was this how Layton felt so long ago when Mischief couldn't communicate?

Of course not, He was never this hopeless.

"What you did was wrong."

The green eyes searched Mischief's face and as it did, the feeling of familiarity became too much to ignore. It was in the way the eyes gleamed with curiosity, he knew those eyes.

Foggy memories flitted through his mind, the musky scent of packed earth, a sharp pinch of tiny teeth ripping at his ear, his mother tugging the larger cat away.

Those were his brother's eyes.

Mischief stared at the mana changed mountain lion letting the realization wash over him.

His brother.

Or more accurately, his littermate. Layton was far more of a brother then this creature was or had ever been. Truthfully, the revelation didn't mean all that much to him besides the implications themselves. Like the reward had already explained in his previous reward, non–sentience meant you may be at risk of being twisted into a mana spawn.

The more he thought about it the more he realized that he really didn't care all that much. He wasn't one, and the ones he'd chosen were on a path to gaining sentience anyway. What he really cared about was keeping more of them alive through wave three.

Green eye's—his litter mate—was watching him closely.

Mischief's ear twitched. Life was funny. At birth he'd been the runt of the litter, all his siblings outpacing him in every way. Now it was the other way around.

Still, even if he didn't really care much about old familial ties, he still felt a connection. So—what should his plan be?

What if the things were more willing to follow instructions now? It really seemed like Green Eyes was making progress. If that was the case he could instruct them to wait in a tight group while he had the chance to weaken the enemies.

The bears were no match for him, and he could easily cause some havoc before the cats joined the fight. But that would really depend on the size of the wave. If there were too many then some were bound to get through.

What he really wanted to do was try and protect the strongest so that they could become his elites.

Mischief sniffed.

This was all just too much. He wanted to protect them all, but that just wasn't possible, they were too stupid to listen to reason or coordinate.

In the end Mischief just settled on doing his best. He'd try and get the mana spawn to give him time to soften the wave and then the rest would be up to them.

Feeling annoyed, he emptied the weapons from his storage, dropping them into the dirt.

Hopefully some would live, he'd prefer more than 104.

A couple of the cats approached the weapons hesitantly, including Green Eyes. His foot prodded at the metal weapon the system had referred to as a "katana" but that was as far as his curiosity went. Mischief didn't really care if they were used or not and finished looting the killing field.

Everywhere Mischief went, Green eyes followed. They reached a clearing of trees where Mischief killed a group of the bears. He reached forward lightly touching a mangled corpse and the it puffed away, appearing as meat, claws, and hide in his storage.

Grass rustled, and Mischief watched through the corner of his eye as Green eyes walked forward to his own dead bear. His head leaned down and he reached out to touch it, he jumped slightly when the body disappeared.

Mischief cocked an eyebrow. So they can loot too? When did that happen? Since he couldn't communicate with any of them it could've been this whole time, a reward for surviving the last wave, or anywhere in between.

Green eyes looked back at Mischief, then took off towards the next bear and touched it, breaking it down also. The process repeated itself and Mischief just watched as Green Eyes ran from bear to bear looting their corpses.

Since he really didn't care much for the loot, this was a nice development. There was still thirty minutes before the next wave so he found a nice spot away from the trees and stretched his body out in the soft grass, letting the sun warm his dark black fur.

He felt drained but it wasn't from the fight. He let out a long breath and allowed his complicated emotions to drain from his mind. He imagined them as a liquid, running down through his neck and into his limbs before finally leaving his body. As the emotions drained he inhaled the scent of death and blood knowing that some were the party members he was charged to keep alive.

Enjoying the warm sun on his fur he realized it was no longer just Green Eyes looting bears any longer. Several of the others had joined in and soon the battlefield would be clean. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts float away on the soft mountain breeze.